The Girl In The Glade
by MsAir
Summary: Andrea woke up in the Glade just like the other Gladers did. After a month, she fits in perfectly and is happy with her life in Glade. Unfortunately, with Thomas' arrival, everything changes. Thrown into a struggle involving Grievers, WICKED, and freedom, can she pull through? And what about her feelings towards two particular boys in the Glade? Newt/OC/Minho
1. Waking Up

The Girl In The Glade

Chapter 1: Waking Up

The feeling of a jolt. That was the first thing that I felt and remembered as the box I was in thrust upwards, abruptly. The loud sound of metal screeching woke me up fully and I gasped as I grasped for air. Was I even breathing? Where was I? Why was I in here? I crawled from my spot on the floor to shake the metal walls that seemed like a cage. I got nothing but a loud, screechy, resonating sound bouncing back off the walls.

The steel, gravity-defying device I was in kept elevating without a pause. "Help…!" a raspy sound escaped my throat. Was that my voice? How long had it been since I drank? "Stop it…!" I cried out, wanting the moving compartment I was in to halt. An acrid smell reached my nose. The nausea started to settle in and I turned to bend over.

Nothing could come out of my mouth so I stood up, taking a look around. The sound of metal being pulled by chains created a wrenching feeling in my gut. I slammed my palms to the steel walls over and over, trying to find a way out but all I saw was darkness. There was nothing beyond it to help me.

_Who am I? Where am I? _Similar thoughts floated through my mind. All I remembered was waking up in the box and…nothing else. I kept my eyes screwed shut and focused on trying to remember something—anything. All of a sudden, flashes barged into and through my mind. I let out a yelp as I clutched my head.

_White coats…computers…designs of something on papers…people…scientists…someone singing…a dark haired girl laughing…a boy smiling…a woman's voice…several voices…my voice?_

_"You designed them?"_

_"Brilliant, these are extraordinary."_

_"Why are we doing this?"_

_"Andrea, don't forget me…"_

My eyes opened up again. Did I just remember—no. No! What did I remember? What just happened? As quickly as the flashes made me remember a few things, it was gone. The flashes disappeared and I struggled to get them back. Why can't I remember? Who were the girl and boy? The woman…was that my mother?

I screamed in frustration as my brain let everything slip away. I can't even recall the flashes now. What happened? What did I remember? Did I even remember something or did just imagine things?

_God, why was this happening to me?_

A straight beam of light shined on the metal floor below me. I hastily looked up, squinting as I saw a line of light. The closer I got, the more I realized that the light was a coming from an opening. The only problem was; the walls of the opening weren't _opening_.

I was going to crash.

Was that my purpose being put in here—in this damn metal box? To die?

My eyes widened and I panicked, inhaling and exhaling harshly. As the light stretched out wider and the metal lift I was in crashed into the said openings, I fell on my butt unceremoniously. The abrupt halt made my body lurched upward and landed back once again on the cool metal floor.

I continued breathing, not wanting to believe that I was dead. After a few moments, the sound of grating metal made me jerk my chin up. _I wasn't dead? _I could still feel the rush of fear and panic in me, so I guess I wasn't dead.

Blinding light suddenly entered the cold and dark box I was in. The light was too bright that I palmed my eyes. My head moved down to conceal itself in my knees. My hair also helped as it fell over my face and knees. It felt like I was frozen in that position for so long until I heard something like metal doors sliding. I still didn't dare look up. It seemed like a few minutes passed and I was just staying there and hiding in my knees.

That was when I heard it—voices. Lots of voices.

"No way…"

"Shuck, do you see what I'm seeing?"

"We're all seeing, you klunk."

"The greenie's…a female."

"I think I've been dreaming to much—can you hit me, Jeff?"

"Does this mean we're getting girls from now on?"

"Look at her hair! It's so…long!"

"How old do you think she is?"

"Is that really a…a girl? Or just a shuck boy with a klunk-load of hair?"

Frowning at the last comment, I slowly looked up and moved my hands away to reveal my face. I was pretty sure I was a girl. Or was I not? Shit, I'm a boy? With long hair? But I…I'm a girl. I don't remember everything but I _know_ I'm a girl. I was positive I was one.

"Yup, she's a girl alright."

Oh, thank the gods; I haven't gone through plastic surgery.

The blaring lights slowly cleared up after a few blinks. Slowly, the my eyes focused to see lots of faces looming over the box I was in. I frowned as I saw faces of boys and only boys. One by one, I turned around to search for girls but saw none but boys. To my left were boy faces and the same thing was to my right. I kept spinning, trying to find a way out and escape them but they were all glued together, peering into the box and staring at me.

I don't know if it was the spinning or if all the boy faces were overwhelming me or if it was just me being clumsy but I fell — on my damn butt — again.

In front of this uncountable amount of boys.

They all snickered as I hid my blush.

Talk about embarrassing.

"Need some help, lass?" a voice asked, amused. I couldn't pinpoint from who since every face belonged to—oh what a surprise!—a boy.

"What are you waiting for? Just pull her up!" another said.

"She's a girl, shuck-face! We can't just _pull her up_!"

"Why not?"

"It's rude!"

"Since when were you all about manners?"

"Alright, ya slintheads! Shut your holes!" this time, I identified where it came from. "You're not helpin' at all," a dark-skinned man with short, cropped hair made his way over to the edge of the box. His voice just screamed _AUTHORITY _when he shouted. All the voices and noises instantly went down. He looked down at me, a stern look on his face. "You comin' out, greenie?"

I didn't know if I could talk without bursting into a panicked-state of hysterical screaming so I just shrugged.

The boy sighed and said, "Tough, you don't really have a choice."

A rope was suddenly lowered down into the box, with a big loop at the end. I stared at it for a while and finally looked up. He must've saw the questioning look on my face and sighed again, grumbling to himself.

"Put your foot in the loop and grab on," he said, looking mildly annoyed. "We're pullin' you up."

Getting up, I wobbled a bit as I walked. I reached the rope and touched it gently, examining it. Why? I had no idea. I slipped the loop into my shoe and tugged at the rope before looking up. The sunlight pricked my eyes once again and I squinted them.

Without warning, the rope was pulled up. I gasped and grabbed the rope to hold onto for dear life. I suddenly felt like an idiot. The box wasn't that far from the top—why was I so scared of falling?

After a two pulls, a hand reached out in front of my face.

"Here, grab my hand," I struggled to look up but saw that the voice belonged to a blond boy. "I'm only pullin' you out."

Hesitating, I finally held onto his hand as he pulled me up. I helped by using my other hand and legs to push myself up and out from the box. I finally got out and stumbled into the blond boy's chest. "Whoops," he said, "steady there," he steadied me by the shoulders and flashed a big smile.

I forced my feet to stand up and not be so weak. Tilting my head up, I looked into a pair of deep brown eyes and was temporarily mesmerized. His hands that were holding my shoulders left and I wanted to hit myself for feeling hollow when it did. "Thanks," I mumbled and looked away before I did something stupid.

I looked around and finally registered where I was—outside of the box, where all the boys were. I blinked and twiddled with my fingers nervously, not exactly comfortable with this lot of boys staring at me like I was an alien.

"Oi, stop staring, slintheads!" the blonde boy that helped me out shouted. "Haven't you klunks ever seen a girl before?"

"Not really," a boy answered immediately. "No."

"Well, just stop it. You're scaring her."

I turned and smiled thankfully at him. He caught my smile and winked, making me look away to cover my blush. Wow, was I always like this? Pathetic.

The dark-skinned boy from before took a step towards me so unexpectedly that I jumped and took a step back.

Well, _tried _to take a step back.

I was standing right on the edge of the box. If it wasn't for the hand that was pressed on my back, stopping me from taking a step back, I would probably have embarrassed myself more than I already have.

"Careful, greenie," the blond boy snickered. "Don't want to break a bone on your first day."

I scolded myself mentally for being so jumpy. I walked back forward and looked at the dark-skinned man from before. He stared at me sternly for a moment before sighing.

"Shuck, I don't know how to do this," he ran his hand over his forehead and crossed his arms. "Newt?"

"Don't ask me, I don't know how to deal with a girl greenie."

An awkward silence made it's way through the group of boys and I. I stood there, feeling extremely odd and out of place. As if fate hated me, another boy abruptly stepped forward. Me being me—not quite losing my jumpiness yet—stepped back again, forgetting that right behind me was the metal box.

"Woah, greenie. Better be careful. I might not catch you if you do that again," the amused voice from the blond boy said. He sighed and pushed me back forward gently. "Better yet, why don't you just step away from the box…" he took my shoulders again and moved me away from the edge of the box. I just followed. "There you go."

The awkward silence filled in again. A minute passed. Then, two. Or maybe I was just over exaggerating. I hated awkward situations.

Finally, I opened my mouth.

"Who are you?"

I bet the dark-skinned boy wasn't going to say it but he sure looked relieved when I asked the first question. "The name's Alby. I'm the Leader of the Gladers."

"Gladers?"

"Uh…it's what we call ourselves. And this," he turned around and hand-motioned for all the boys to step aside. Once they did, I got a good look at what was in front of me—or practically all around me! "Is the Glade."

I walked through the split the boys made and looked around. I couldn't describe it since there was so much to see but it was really an eyeful. Basically, it was a whole wide field with a community in it. I could see a weird looking building made of wood near a corner of the Glade. And grass and trees were all around a place that looked like a small forest. And there were animals too—cows, sheeps and pigs—all grazing grass and doing their things in their pen. Around us were big, giant concrete walls with ivy leaves weaving from the bottom until it dispersed at the top.

"The glade is where we eat, sleep, survive and all that klunk," Alby continued. "Take a good look, greenie. This is where you'll be spending your years too."

"Wow…" I whispered. Almost immediately, questions popped into my head. Lots of them—so I fired. "Why am I here? Why are _you_ all here? What exactly is this place? Who put us here? Why are the walls so big and thick? Can we leave? Is this a game or something? How do you survive here? How _long _have you been here?" I kept firing questions and Alby groaned. Then, the most important question came out of my mouth. "Why can't I remember anything?"

Alby stepped in front of me and put his hand out. "Slim yourself, greenie. You'll learn one by one."

Scrunching my eyebrows together in confusion, I looked down at myself. Slim myself? "Um, slim…what?" I asked, my eyebrows raising. I was confused.

A chorus of sniggers went through the crowd of boys.

"Forget it," Alby sighed. "You came early today. The runners just took off about half an hour ago—"

"Runners?" I interjected curiously.

"I said slim it, newbie," Alby snapped. "You'll know on the tour later on. You'll die from shock if you know everything right now. Man, how can you go from a silent shuck to a parrot in just a second?"

Ignoring the insult jabbed, I asked, "Why can't I know right know?" I frowned. "What'll kill me? I just want to know how I got here, _why_ I got here—"

"Quiet, greenie! You'll know everything later once you calm down. Now you stop asking questions or this information overload will kill you. Got that, shank?"

"What does that even mean—_shank_, _greenie, klunk_—Are those even words?" I kept asking, angry that he wouldn't answer my questions. "What's so bad that I'll die? I can handle information. Just tell me why I'm here!"

"Enough!" Alby growled. "That's enough from you, greenie. Now you can choose to either take a moment in the slammer to get yourself together or we can start the tour right now."

"Slammer? Is that prison? You have a prison here?"

I looked around, not really understanding how they could build a prison around this place. Or is it just a…make-believe prison?

Alby sighed and rubbed his temple. "I'm guessin' the former. Newt, take the girl and…try to get 'er to calm down."

"I am calm. I'm not screaming or freaking out, am I?"

Even though I asked a lot of unanswered questions, I tried remaining calm and refrain myself from screaming or running wildly.

"I'm sure all those questions jacked your head up. Go clear it for a while and I'll come get ya for the tour later."

"Wait, I'm going to prison now?" I asked incredulously and Alby nodded, face devoid of emotion.

The blonde boy from before, Newt, came over to stand beside me. "Come on, greenie. Excuse our shuck-face leader there, yeah? He's not very good at this," he said loudly, a teasing tone in his voice as he looked at Alby.

Alby rolled his eyes but I could see a small curve on the edge of his lips. "Slim it, you klunk. Now go, take the girl."

"Hey, Albs—forgettin' somethin'?" Newt asked. Alby shrugged and Newt scoffed. "What's your name, greenie?"

My eyes snapped open at him. "My name…" What _was _my name? I had one…but what was it? I shut my eyes and tried to remember. I blinked and wrung my hands, searching through my mind for the one thing I wanted badly—my name.

_"Hey, Andy," a girl's voice called out. _

_"Good job, And," a boy smiled._

_"Goodnight, Andrea…" an older voice—a woman's bid._

"An-Andy…Andrea," I said, the name rolling out of my tongue. "My name is Andrea."

The boys around me suddenly hooted and cheered, and I heard a few murmurs of 'Andrea coming back from them. I smiled nervously and looked at Newt.

"Well, then," he grinned. "Welcome to the Glade, Andrea."

* * *

><p>My eyes traveled around the <em>Glade, <em>scanning the place up and down and left to right. The place was huge. I saw some _Gladers _go back to work—some tying twigs together, trimming the weed, cleaning the hammocks and anything else one can do here. There wasn't much around though, no houses, no lakes, no malls, no cars…it was just a giant field with _nothing_. Nothing much.

Newt walked in front of me, occasionally glancing back to see if I was still following him. I rolled my eyes; like I could go _anywhere_ in this wide-open land. My eyes continued observing the place. The tall, humongous concrete walls were covered in moss at the bottom and ivy plants all the way up. I looked up at the sky, seeing nothing but blue skies—there weren't even clouds.

Then, something caught my eyes. There was a gap in the walls. A wide, long gap that revealed narrow walls on the other side. I scrutinized it a bit more, seeing nothing but empty walls and stopped walking.

"Hey," I called out to Newt and he turned back to look at me. "What's that?"

He followed my eyes to the giant gap in the walls and frowned. "That's uh…well, Alby will tell you," he shrugged. "Later, on the tour."

"Is that a way out? Does it lead to some other part of your _Glade_?"

Newt sighed and said, "On the tour, you can ask Alby anything," he then turned and continued walking. "Come one, we got to get you to the slammer."

"Why am I going to jail again?" I asked, jogging to catch up with him. I reached and walked alongside him, giving a questioning look.

"Every greenbean that has a panic attack on their first day goes there," he answered. "Don't worry, you'll understand everything and be out of there before the day ends."

I frowned, not understanding what he meant by that. We continued walking, the other Gladers pausing in the middle of their job to stare at us every now and then. I bit my lips, not liking all the attention and looked down. "Um, so am I the only girl here?"

"Yup," Newt replied, flashing a grin at me.

"And how many boys are here?" I asked warily.

He smirked. "About 50 or more."

I nodded, smiling sardonically. "Great, that's just amazing," I mused sullenly as he chuckled. "Were there any girls before me?"

"None, you're the first one," he answered naturally, making me frown. After a few more steps, he stopped. "There it is, the buggin' Slammer."

In front of me stood the Slammer—a big block of jaggedly cut concrete, looking more than capable to harm someone if they stumbled against it. One poorly made wooden door was there with another small, barred window—the only chance of allowing light in. Newt walked over to it, took out a key and opened a metal latch. He swung the door open as it made an unearthly sound. How it was still able to stay erect and keep prisoners in it, I would never know.

Honestly, it looked like a dungeon out of a prehistoric movie. I was almost betting that bats would fly out any second.

"I'm staying _there_?"

"There's only a chair in there," Newt said, motioning to an ugly looking stool inside. "Nothing else, don't worry. No monsters," he said playfully, noticing my anxious stare at the mock-jail. "Alby will come get you soon."

I groaned and crossed my arms. "Define soon."

Newt just smiled. I stared at him for a while, taking in his lean stance. I couldn't deny that he was good-looking. He caught me staring and raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a smirk. I rolled my eyes, huffing and looking away. When I didn't move, he sighed and leaned against the outside wall of the Slammer, looking amused.

"Well, what are you waiting for? An invitation?"

"No one gets _invited _into jail," I retorted, frowning. "They're put there by force."

"What? You want me to bloody force you in there?"

I narrowed my eyes at him and walked into the Slammer, not stopping until I reached the end. The pathetic looking excuse of a chair seemed to mock me, screaming how it was my only companion for the time being. Scowling, I turned back to glare at Newt.

"You'll be fine in here," he grinned, swinging the door shut and locking it. Then, he looked back at me. "Just enjoy the bloody peace and use it to get your head together."

"My head is in one piece," I sneered.

"You know, you don't really look intimidating when you do that," he simpered. "It's actually quite amusing."

"Your hair is amusing," I snapped back, making him scoff.

"Minho will like you, I think," he chuckled before standing to leave, waving the key in visible daylight on purpose. "Have fun."

And that left me alone, in a mock jail-cell, with nothing but a crooked chair.

"Okay, chair," I sighed loudly as I sat down on the cemented floor, not trusting the unbalanced legs of the furniture with my safety. "Wanna tell me a bit more about yourself?"

* * *

><p>I wasn't sure how long I was in the Slammer, but I was pretty sure it's been more than an hour. I gave up talking to the unresponsive chair after a few questions. My head was leaning against the wall as my legs stretched out. My eyes were closed as I thought about what I was doing in the Glade.<p>

I was pretty sure I looked like a troubled drug dealer.

Why was I here? Why was I the only girl? Who was in charge of putting us here? Why can't I remember anything?

I tried searching through my mind for something—_anything_—but nothing popped up. I knew I was a girl and that was it. My name was Andrea…no last name came to mind. Did I have a family? I don't know. I could think of lots of general things—I knew what was what. I knew people, society, school, and countries like Brazil, Italy, Japan and more. I knew how to tie a rope, shoelaces, how to climb, kick, skate…I knew a lot of things but I don't remember _learning _them.

I don't remember anything from my past except my name. And the indistinct voices that called them. Besides that—nothing.

I looked down at myself to see the clothes I was wearing. I was wearing a dark brown capris that was now stained by dirt from the slammer. My long-sleeved closed-fitting shirt was probably the most unfortunate color to have in the Glade—white. It was dirty already. I also had a pale yellow, sleeveless button-up shirt on too. I frowned at the weird color combinations—white and yellow. Way to make me the brightest person in the Glade. Now I'll have to wash my shirt everyday.

The thought brought another question to my head. I was a girl—the Gladers were all boys. Do they have girl clothing here? Any girl necessities? My hair was longer than them—did they have a brush? Do they ever clip their nails? Do I get-oh.

Girls have periods.

Do they have tampons or pads here?

Will I get periods here in the Glade?

I sighed heavily and squeezed my head. Life was going to be hard here in the Glade. I stared up at the ceiling, not really looking at anything specific. The silence in the Slammer was nice and peaceful but after hours there, it was killing me. Boredom crept up on me as I tapped my fingers on the ground.

A shadow covered my source of light and I looked up to see someone by the door—a tall, muscly posture unlocking the latch.

"Alby?" I squinted my eyes and saw him open the metal latch. Joy burst inside of me. "Oh, finally! Am I getting out of here?"

"Before that," Alby paused, squatting down by the entrance and looking at me sternly. "I need to ask you a few questions."

I huffed, blowing some hair out of my face. My joy died down and I crossed my arms. "Fine, go ahead."

"What do ya remember?"

I blinked and then looked down, thinking of his question. What did I remember? I tried earlier but couldn't recall anything. I tried once again to reach for something but there was only a black, empty hole in the back of my mind. Disappointment washed over me as I sighed and shook my head.

"I remember my name," I shrugged. "Nothing else."

Alby exhaled heavily. "That's not surprising, everyone else remembers just that too," he looked at me—slumped against the wall and looking miserable. He stood up and leaned against the door. "Ready to get outta here?"

My eyes lit up and I quickly got up, dusting myself off. "That's the best thing I've heard all day!"

Alby cracked a small smile that faded just as fast as it appeared and led me out of the dark cell into the brightness of day.

"Now, it's time for the shuckin' tour."

* * *

><p><strong>That's all for the first chapter. Please review, follow, favorite, i don't know. Just do <em>something<em>.**

**I'll post the next chapter if I get some reviews...actually, I'll just post them anyway.**

**Thanks for reading :)**


	2. The Tour & Sleeping Arrangements

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Maze Runner.**

**Warning: Rated T for language…some_ minor_ language.**

* * *

><p><span>The Girl In The Glade<span>

Chapter 2: The Tour

The Glade was huge — as it was already specified about a million times — but having the chance to walk to every part of it and finding out what was for what was strangely exciting for me. Alby told me to ask no questions until the end of the tour though — which was hard to comply but I did anyway.

We first started when I escaped the chilling cellar known as the Slammer. From there, we went to the Box — or more basically, the metal contraption that sent me here. Now that I actually took a look at it from the outside, it didn't look as large as I thought it was. It was big, yeah, and also deep but not really all that. Or maybe because I was on the outside, it seemed smaller.

Kind of like when you're about to jump from a high place and then when you get to the bottom, you realize it wasn't really _that _high?

"This is the Box. It's where we get our buggin' supplies every week. And every once a month, we get a greenie like ya," he paused, looking at me before adding, "only a different gender."

I nodded, mentally listing the things I wanted to ask down in my head. _What the hell was a 'greenie'_?

"Supplies include clothes, food, some working equipment and all that. Not usually much since we pretty much have everything we need here," he said. "Oh, and remind me about your supplies. They came in here with ya just now."

That perked my interest as I nodded mutely. I had supplies. Maybe there were girl stuff in there — extra clothes and underwear and maybe even nail clippers. I felt relieved.

"If ya should know, the Box doesn't move if someone is in it. And don't even think about heroic strategies like lowering a body down or jumping in because nothing works. Tried throwing a stone in once — never heard it land. We tried tying a shank to a rope and lower him down and, uh, you don't wanna know what happened to 'im."

I let all his words sink in and nodded, my mental list growing longer with every added question-to-ask-later.

Alby then walked off, not waiting for me. I had to jog to keep up with his long, fast strides. He led me to a wide part of the Glade where it was covered in nothing but grass, but I had a view of everything as I spun and spun around.

"The Glade is split into four sections — the Gardens, Homestead, Blood House and Deadheads. Got that?"

"Which is which?" I asked suddenly, forgetting to be mute.

Alby sighed and said, "I'm getting to that," he then started walking off again without a explaining. "Let's go."

I huffed and followed his retreating figure. Just like when Newt escorted me to the Slammer, some Gladers would pause in the middle of their jobs or whatever they were doing to look at me like I was an alien. Hm, who knows? Maybe I had a weird face — I haven't seen my face yet since waking up here. I couldn't even remember what my face looked like. My hands touched a part of my cascading hair and I twisted it up to see it in detail — I had blond hair. Not dark blond or blonde with a few dark strands but _fully_ blond. Light blond. Very, _very_ light — every single strand.

We finally neared what seemed to be a garden. The field was a large span of grass with fruit trees and plants and Gladers…well…_gardening_.

"The Gardens, obviously," he rolled his eyes before continuing, "S'where we grow the crops. Water comes through the pipes underground. Don't ask me anything about that — it's been like that since day one."

And then, we were walking again. I had to keep my annoyance from rising and obediently trailed along behind him. Next, we reached a building — or what was _assumed _to be a building. It looked possibly worse than the Slammer and had a chilling aura around it. It smelled weird too — metallic, rotting, unpleasant — as we got closer to it. A small fence enclosed around a few animals on the side of the building.

"Call this the Blood House — where we raise and slaughter animals. It'll be a wonder if you end up working there."

Then guess what happened — yup, more walking. This time, we walked over to a crooked, weird looking, building — or the closest thing that could be _defined_ as a building in the Glade. I squinted my eyes, taking in the boys strolling in and out of the front door. Right outside the door, rows of hammocks were spotted. The hammocks were sheltered underneath a wooden roof supported by pillars.

"This shuck building is the Homestead — it's where we sleep. Well, where _some _of us sleep. Most of the Gladers like sleeping outside. Keepers usually stay inside though. The Med-jacks also work in there."

_Med-jacks? _My list of questions grew longer and I couldn't really remember most of it anymore. Then, my eyes wandered to the hammocks outside. _That_ was where I was supposed to sleep — in the presence of fifty plus boys?

"Where am I supposed t-"

"No question until over, greenie."

There goes the word again — _greenie_.

Alby then pointed to the last corner, the forest area. "That there is what we call the Deadheads."

"Let me guess, where the dead resides?"

"Where the dead resides," Alby repeated affirmatively. "The graveyard is far back though, deep in the forest."

Not surprising since its name made it kind of obvious. It had several trees and pitiful benches on the outside where the trees were widely distanced from each other. Beyond that, the trees start growing more and more compact, leaving nothing to be seen from far away except clusters of darkness.

"What you can see is the place where we hang out, rest, do whatever," he sighed, seeming already bored with showing me around. "Ain't much but s'all we have."

I nodded, taking it all in. So the Glade was where I was going to live for the next…forever? _How long was I supposed to be here?_ I added that to my list of questions and moved on to think about the Box. Alby said the box delivers a new _greenie _— I think that means new person — every month. Maybe next month another girl would show up and save me from being suffocated by boys. I just had to hold on for one month.

One _long _month.

On the bright side though, the Glade didn't look too bad. I could get used to the grass and heat and dirt…_eww_. I guess I had to just suck it up. Since Alby was quiet, I figured that the tour — the pitiful tour — was over.

"Can I ask a question now?"

"No."

"Aren't we finished?"

"No."

"Are there more places around here?"

"No."

"Is that all you can say—no?"

"N-" Alby stopped, narrowing his eyes at me. I smiled innocently. He then crossed his arms. "I am capable of more words."

"Good catch," I grinned. "Now what else is on the agenda?"

"Your job," he answered smugly.

I deadpanned. "I have to work?"

"What'd ya expect? Being pampered and fed grapes everyday while you sit on a throne?" he remarked snidely. "Sorry, _Princess_, but we all carry our own responsibilities 'round here."

"N-no! I didn't mean it like that," I stammered, flustered. "It's just…wow. You don't waste any time, do you?"

"No time to waste," he retorted steely. "Like I said, for the next two weeks, you're going to be trying out jobs with different Keepers. One job a day until you land one that suits you. Something'll stick…hopefully."

The way he said that made me annoyed. I wasn't useless — I could get a job. The only difference is that I was a girl and the others were boys. That didn't mean I couldn't do anything. I'm sure I could be useful _somehow_.

I sighed. "Okay. And what now?"

"Today, you get the day off. Lounge around, get to know some shanks, I don't know," he shrugged, uncaring. "Just don't get into trouble."

"Got it," I nodded. "Now can I ask questions?"

"Not yet," his answer made me groan. "Come on, this is the last thing i'mma show you."

Alby started walking with me in tow, this time towards nothing. I scrunched my brows in confusion. What else was he supposed to show me? We were separated from the crowd of boys as he led me to a clearing. After a far distance, I finally realized what we were walking towards — the gap in the concrete walls. I blinked, not believing that I actually _forgot _about about that.

I didn't realize that Alby already stopped walking until I slammed into his back. He turned around and gave me an irritated look. I smiled sheepishly, bouncing on my feet lightly. He sighed heavily and nodded in the direction of two people. They were just standing beside the gap, not doing anything else. They nodded back at Alby, waving their hands in greeting.

Alby turned to me and pointed to the gap.

"This is the Door. There a four doors on every wall. This here is the East Door and as you should generally know, that is South, West, and North," he pointed at each of the walls respectively. "Baggers guard them, securing people from running out except for the Runners."

_Baggers? Runners? Why can't we run out?_

"Why?" I asked curiously.

"Look outside," he said lowly, letting me walk nearer and tilt my head to take a closer look. With every step I took, the Baggers would move closer to the entrance, eyeing me carefully. "What'd ya see?"

"Nothing much," I replied, confused but still extremely curious. "Just a narrow path, similar walls on each side, ivy and…cemented floor?" I shook my head, feeling frustrated. "Why? What's out there?"

Alby looked outside, seemingly lost in thought for a moment before starting, "Out there's the Maze," his lips thinned, a grim expression on his face. "It surrounds the whole Glade. Every door leads to the Maze — complicated, crazy series of shuckin' pathways. It goes on and on and no one has ever found a way out."

I scrunched my eyebrows together in concentration, listening to Alby's every word attentively.

"For three years we've tried, no luck whatsoever. Runners go out there to run and map it everyday…but until now, nothing."

_Three years_. They've been here for _three years_, and no one has ever found a way out. "Nothing? At all?" I asked, not fully believing him.

"None," Alby shook his head. "The walls change every night."

"Change?"

"…They move. Every day is a new shuckin' maze. Mappin' it ain't easy."

"Th-the walls…_move_?" I repeated in disbelief. "Those _concrete walls_…_move_?"

"Better believe it, newbie," he said. "Defies the law of nature but it does."

I nodded, not knowing what to think. For some reason, knowing that the Maze was out there didn't bother me that much. I mean, it's not like there are man-eating, cold-blooded, killer monsters lurking out there, right?

"So what are Runners?" I asked, looking at Alby. He blinked, seeming taken-aback by my disinterest over the Maze. Maybe he was used to 'greenies' freaking out or something.

After awhile, he cleared his throat. "They run through the Maze, come back before it closes and map it. Besides them, no one else is allowed to go out there."

Now _that _aroused my further curiosity. "Before _what _closes?"

"The Doors. Every door closes at 7 at reopen the same time next day."

"Why do they close?"

"…it's, uh," Alby hesitated and ran his hand over his forehead. "…that's one of the things you'll find out soon."

"Why can't I know now?"

"It's complicated."

"But-"

"You'll find out tomorrow."

"Why?"

"It's not something that can be told."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you'll find out tomorrow."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing by the Door and the Baggers, aggravated.

"Alby! Hey—wait!"

* * *

><p>After the tour ended and Alby answered all of my questions, he told me to go '<em>get some food and friends and stay outta trouble<em>'. Then, he went inside the Homestead without anything for me. Not a map, a guide, any advise — nothing. I was left alone outside the Homestead like a lost puppy. The Gladers that passed by only stared at me — it didn't help at all.

Damn Alby.

So I walked off and finally found what I assumed to be the kitchen and dining area. Tables and benches were strewn across the grass with random groups of boys occupying each one. A line was formed in front of a table where a big, tall, dark-skinned boy was handing food out to everyone. I slowly stalked over to the line and queued behind a boy.

I stood out like a sore thumb. Or a neon elephant. Or even white ink. Anything. I just stood out obviously.

"Hey, it's the girl greenie," a passing boy said, catching my attention.

Uncomfortable, I just smiled nervously. He looked back at the long line and frowned. I immediately got a bad feeling.

"Hey, shanks! You really gonna let a girl queue for food?" he shouted, making me alarmed and embarrassed. "Shame on you!"

"No! Don't!" I waved my hands in front of me, wanting him to shut up. "Please stop talking…!"

Too late.

When I looked back, the line was suddenly a few inches away from where it originally existed, leaving only the table with food in front of me. I bit my lip, avoiding the stares of the Gladers that side stepped so that I could get some food.

"Your welcome," the boy said before trudging off.

Feeling mortified from all the gazes on me, I froze and didn't move. I gathered the courage to look up at the boys' faces. Some of them looked impatient, arms crossed and tapping their foot on the ground, while some were looking at me expectantly, jerking their heads to the food table.

Biting my lip and wringing my hands nervously, I slowly made my way to the front of the line. A dark-skinned boy with almost no hair stood there, scrutinizing me.

"So, you're the girl, huh."

"Obviously. I'm pretty sure I look like one," I retorted, feeling annoyed. Then, I realized I was being rude. To not aggravate him, I added, "Do I?"

"Yeah, you look like a girl," he said, quirking a tiny smirk. "Minho'll like you."

It sounded familiar. I thought back to my time in the Slammer and remembered Newt saying the same thing. _"Minho will like you_," he said.

"Who's Minho?" I asked as he passed me a plate of fried noodles.

"Keeper of the Runners, sass queen of the Glade," he answered casually. "You'll meet him later."

I nodded — I did that _a lot _today — and quickly picked up my plate and moved out of the way so the next boy could collect his food.

Just like what I did most of the day, I stood like a lost puppy. I gazed around the dining area and saw that most of the tables were already occupied. A boy walked past me and sat at a table, greeting his friends.

_Great, everyone has a lunch buddy except me_.

I almost fled, choosing to find a place where I could eat alone. Like in the movies where the new, awkward girl arrives at high school and eats in a bathroom cubicle for lunch. Unfortunately, I didn't know a single route in the Glade so I'm basically screwed.

"Move over, greenie," I heard someone bark from a distance. My head snapped to a group of boys towering over a tiny, chubby boy sitting alone at a table.

"I'm not the greenie anymore," the boy retorted loudly.

"Whatever, Slopper," another boy jeered. "Get lost."

One by one, they noisily put their plates down and took their seats on the bench. The little boy didn't budge until the last boy slammed his plate down, glaring at him. The little boy slowly grabbed his plate that was already half-finished and stood up. As he walked away, one of the boys stuck a foot out and tripped him. The little boy had a firm grip on his plate though, and only wobbled a bit. The group of boys laughed as he walked away to another poor looking table and sat alone.

I frowned. Seemed like even here in the Glade, high school drama was alive and executed.

I thought about it and decided to sit with the little boy. Since he was alone, I would have a place to sit. Other than that, I could try making friends. On my way, the group of boys — the ones that forced the little boy away and stole his table — stopped me.

"Hey, new girl!" one of them grabbed my hand. Instinctively, I yanked it away vigorously and glared at him. "Woah, chill. We just wanted to ask if you'd sit with us."

"It's okay," I smiled, trying to not seem too spiteful. "Seems like your table's full."

Not wasting any time, I sauntered towards the little boy's table. The boy was playing with his food, pushing the noodles back and forth and twirling them around his fork before squashing them against the plate. His head was propped by his pudgy palm, facing to one side. He didn't see me standing by his table since his eyes were downcast.

"It's not good playing with your food, you know," I said, making the boy jump and look at me. He blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes. I smiled warmly. "Hi. I'm Andrea."

"…I know," he mumbled out slowly, continuing to rub his eyes like he couldn't believe someone was talking to him. I lightly bounced on my feet, feeling nervous.

A minute passed.

Then two.

"…and you are?" I inquired slowly, still keeping my smile on.

"Oh! R-right! How, uh, slintheaded…of me…yeah. I-I'm Chic-I mean, Chuck!" he said, stumbling over his words. "I'm Chuck."

"Okay then. Hi Chuck," I laughed — first time since I arrived in the Glade — at his flustered self. "Can I sit here?"

His eyes lit up. "Really? You want to sit here? With me?" he asked, looking excited. I felt a pang in my heart — had no one ever sat with him? Why? Didn't he have any friends here?

I giggled and replied, "Well, I don't see anyone else."

"Okay," he nodded, a little too enthusiastically. "Sure! Sit here!" I smiled gratefully and took a seat opposite him.

I looked down at my food — it was just fried noodles, nothing fancy, but I was hungry. Taking a forkful of noodles, I eagerly placed it inside my mouth. It was like a trigger went off and suddenly; I was eating like there was no tomorrow.

It wasn't the most graceful look one could pull off, but I didn't care.

I was hungry as hell.

"Oh my god," I sighed in contentment, taking another bite of the noodles. "I'm so hungry right now."

Chuck laughed. "You know, the other Gladers are staring at you."

That made me halt. I looked around me, realizing that I was eating like a crazy, starved, food-deprived idiot…in front of all these boys.

Then, I frowned. "Who cares?" I scoffed, continuing to munch on my food. "I'm starving like crazy right now. They should just mind their own business."

"It's not good talking with your mouth full, you know," he said cheekily. My eyes snapped up to him, lips curling into a grin.

"And you're just the smartest shank on earth aren't you?"

Chuck chuckled — hah, chuck _chuck_led — and took a bite of his noodles. "Wait—how do you know that word?"

"What? Shank?" I raised an eyebrow. Chuck nodded. "Alby told me. I pestered him on and forced him to tell me all those weird words you guys were using. I didn't want to sound stupid later on."

"You _forced_ him to tell you?" Chuck asked, eyes wide.

I shrugged. "Yeah, well, not really…I just annoyed him into telling me, I guess," In a tiny, indignant voice, I continued, "And then of course he left me all alone to fend for myself."

"How?" Chuck asked, ignoring my mutter.

"I held him hostage in the slammer and beat him up with a pogo stick," I drawled sarcastically. Chuck looked terrified. "I'm just kidding. Sheesh."

"Oh," Chuck laughed. "I think Minho will like you."

I frowned, hearing that being said to my yet _again_. "Who _is _that? Seriously, I've heard that being said to me — the exact same line — over three times. And I haven't even been here for half a day," I grumbled, agitated. "Is he, like, Mr. Popularity around here or something? Why does he need to like me?"

"Actually, Minho is the Keeper of the Runners," Chuck started, smiling at my mini-tirade. "He's out running right now so you probably won't meet him until later. He's just really sarcastic and bossy most of the time. Rude, too…but he's excused for being a Runner, I guess."

"So why will he like me?" I raised an eyebrow.

"You're like him."

I frowned, recalling his earlier criticism about _Minho_. "But I'm not rude…or bossy," I said, thinking about all that I've done today. Well, I _did_ annoy some people and was a teensy bit rude to Newt and the cook… "Wait, am I?"

Chuck chortled. "Nah, you're not as bad as Minho. You're pretty cool, actually."

"Aw, thanks," I smiled, feeling pleased that someone gave me a compliment. "You're cool too, Chuck."

His smile dimmed slightly as I said that but was back and bright in less than a second. "Thanks."

* * *

><p>That evening, after eating and hanging out with Chuck, I sat by a bench near the forest. Chuck went of to do some <em>slopping <em>and besides him, I had no other friends. I liked being friends with Chuck. He never stops talking but I sort of got used to it after a while. He was also always smiling around me, which left me thinking — did he have other friends in the Glade? How could anyone _not _like him? Sure he was annoying when he talks too much but that didn't bother me.

I like talking too. Sometimes.

I took a deep breath and leaned back against the bench. The sky was still bright but turning slightly dark. I closed my eyes, hoping for some rest and possibly some memories to magically return to my head.

"Hey, greenie," someone greeted as they took a seat next to me.

I opened my eyes to see Newt. My impassive face turned into a scowl.

"What? Don't like to see me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not really fond of the person who threw me into jail. And I have a name — it's Andrea."

"I didn't _throw _you into jail, _Andrea_," he scoffed. "I merely escorted you there and you walked in."

Of course, he was right, but it wasn't as if I had a choice. "Whatever."

Suddenly, Newt burst out laughing. I frowned, raising a questioning eyebrow. "That was so bloody girly of you," he said and cleared his throat, "_Whatever,_" he mocked in a high-pitched, shrilly voice.

"I don't sound like that," I retorted, smiling slightly. "That was stupid."

"That wasn't stupid," he pouted slightly and I stiffened. "It was a good impression."

No retort came out of my mouth as I looked at him, biting on my lips to keep me from laughing. My growing grin was hard not to miss though. He saw me look at him funnily and quirked his eyebrows. "What?"

"You say stupid weird."

"What?"

"Stupid," I repeated. "You say it like…_steeyu-puhet_."

"No, I don't."

"You do! You say it like _steeyu_-_puhet_," I said, laughing. "It's weird."

"Well, how should I say it?"

"Like normal people do. Stu-pid."

"_Steeyu_-pid."

"_Stu _and _pid_," I pressed. "It's not hard."

"Steeyu-pitt?"

"Stu-pid."

"Sdyu-pid?"

"No, no. _Stu_-pid. Stu like stew."

"Stew-puheet?"

"Now your pid sounds weird," I laughed out and grinned. "You suck at this."

"Well then I give up," he grumbled, albeit playfully. "I'm British not a bloody American."

"No shit," I let out a laugh.

* * *

><p>Newt and I talked for a while as the sun set — even though the sun wasn't visible. I learned that he was second-in-command and worked part-time as a Track-hoe. Some other times, he just helps around the Glade, doing anything he can. It was actually nice talking to him. Excluding putting me in jail earlier, he was surprisingly good company.<p>

"Oh, finally. The shuck-face," Newt mumbled, looking at a Door where two boys just ran in. "Come on. I'll introduce you to Minho."

"Minho? The infamous Minho I've been hearing about?" I stood up beside him, feeling strangely excited.

"Infamous?"

"Chuck and the cook…" I shook my head, not knowing how to explain to him. "I've just heard his name a lot today."

Newt gave me a weird look but shrugged. "Okay, just follow me. We've got to get to him before he reaches the bloody Map Room."

Newt started walking and thankfully, he didn't just run off and let me trail behind him like Alby. I walked next to him as he started shouting, "Minho! Oi, Minho!"

A tired, sweaty, exhausted Asian boy turned to the source of the shout and stopped running. He was clad in a blue shirt, black pants and had a backpack on his back. For some weird and unnatural cause, his hair was slicked up and still, looking perfect even though he just came back from running the whole day. He squinted his eyes when he saw Newt and I walking towards him from a distance. Feeling insecure at meeting a Keeper, I hid behind Newt and thanked the gods that he was taller than me.

"What do you want shuck-face?" Minho breathed out, looking annoyed, as we approached him. "I gotta go map the shucking Maze."

"I just wanted to introduce you to the new greenie," Newt answered, crossing his arms. "It won't take long."

"Does the new greenbean have superpowers to get us out of this shuck place?" Minho asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Uh, no?" Newt replied.

"Then he's not worth my time, goodbye," Minho drawled and started to run to his destination again.

Before he could pass Newt though, I stepped out and smiled. "Hi."

I think it shocked him since he stopped running and jumped back, stumbling over his feet but composing himself just as quick. He froze and blinked once, twice, and then thrice. I continued smiling nervously as he looked back and forth from Newt to me. His clueless and stunned face made Newt smile smugly.

"Dude, I think I got stung by a Griever," he whispered to Newt, though it was loud enough for me to hear. "I'm hallucinating."

Newt laughed as I said, "I'm a real person."

"This is who I wanted to introduce you to," Newt clarified after taking in Minho's incredulous reaction. "Minho, meet the new greenie, Andrea."

"You're shucking me," he finally voiced out, eyeing me up and down. "She's a girl."

"Wow, you're really perceptive aren't you?" I drawled. "Do you always point out the obvious?"

Minho inspected me for a moment, still looking skeptical, and turned to Newt. "You're not just trying to trick me by putting a wig on the new _boy _greenie, are you?"

"Now that's just insulting," I exclaimed, frowning. "Does my face really look like a boys'?"

"No, it looks like a girls'," Newt answered, smiling. "A really pretty girl too."

"Thanks," I smiled, feeling my heart flutter from his compliment. I turned to Minho and narrowed my eyes. "So you're Minho, Mr. Popularity. I'm Andrea."

Minho blinked, observing me once more before scrunching his eyes. "What?"

"Andrea," I repeated as if I was talking to a baby. "It's my name…?"

"No, I-I got that…!" he exclaimed, annoyed. "Mr. Popularity?"

"Oh," I grinned. "I've just heard a lot about you the whole day."

"And what exactly have you heard?" he asked, raising his eyebrows curiously.

"That you're the Keeper of the Runners," I answered.

He suddenly nodded and smiled smugly. "Well, that I am-"

"And that you're sarcastic, rude and bossy," I interjected, smiling innocently.

Minho narrowed his eyes and glared at me while Newt snickered. For a minute, I thought I went to far and maybe Minho was a sensitive person. After awhile though, he smirked and said, "I like you, greenie."

"Yeah," I breathed out, poker-faced. "I've heard that was supposed to happen three times today, too."

"Psh, don't listen to rumors," Minho scoffed. "Especially from this shuck-face here," he jerked his head to Newt.

"I didn't tell her anything," Newt defended himself.

"Yeah, I believe you so much," Minho said, a skeptical expression on his face. Newt was about to respond when Minho raised his hand, shutting the blond boy up. "Shut up. I need to go Map — it's the first thing a Runner should do when they arrive back. You know that."

Newt rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Go on, then."

Minho nodded and turned back to me, grinning. "Nice meeting you, greenie. Finally the shuck Creators find the brains to send a girl," he mumbled. "See you later."

Minho ran off, leaving Newt and I alone. My eyes followed his buff figure that ran to a small hut, opened it and slammed the door shut.

I turned back to Newt to see him gazing at the Maze Doors. I narrowed my eyes quizzically. I was about to ask Newt what he was looking at when a loud, booming sound thundered through the Glade, making me jump in surprise. I turned to Newt, a questioning look on my face but he just put a finger on lips, signaling me to keep quiet.

Then, he pointed to the Doors.

Before I could ask why, an ear-splitting, grinding, crushing sound started, making me close my ears. My eyes snapped to the Doors and I sucked in a sharp breath as I saw it close — giant, heavy concrete walls _moving _to _close_. I watched it move closer, each protruding spike reaching out to meet its corresponding wall. Time stopped as my eyes stayed glued to the Doors as it finally shut with a loud boom that echoed around the Glade.

"Astounding, innit?" Newt spoke softly. "How they close like that."

"Yeah, I guess so." I looked at him, scrunching my eyebrows. "Why do they close?"

Newt turned meet my eyes, smiling slyly. "Nice try, but no. Alby told me not to tell you that yet."

I grumbled, blowing some of my hair out of my face. "Well, then…now what?"

"Now," Newt grinned knowingly. "We figure out your sleeping arrangements."

* * *

><p>It's been ten minutes since Newt and Alby entered Alby's room — or <em>office <em>— to discuss where I would sleep. Alby gave me a small red bag that came up with me in the box and said that it was my supplies before rudely shutting the door in my face. The bag was small — almost as small as Minho's backpack — and light, diminishing the hope of having all my complete necessities.

I sat in the hallway of the top floor where Alby and Newt's rooms were located, rummaging through the tiny bag I had. As I unzipped the zipper, the first thing I saw was a note — a white, hard, high-quality paper with blue writings on it.

_For her_.

Frowning, I flipped the paper around for anything else but found nothing. I sat the paper down on the floor and started looking inside the bag. I pulled out pieces of flimsy fabric and held it out in front of me. It was a dark grey shirt. I scowled at the light, thin fabric they supplied for me. Crumpling it and taking out another shirt, I groaned. The mint green shirt I was holding was just as flimsy, feeble and thin as the shirt earlier.

No wonder the bag was so freaking small.

Underneath the two shirts were pants — one similar to what I was wearing and one beige shorts. _Probably for hot days_, I thought. Setting those aside, I found my underclothes tucked neatly inside. Carefully, I checked to see two underwear and two bras. I grumbled at the minimal amount of clothing the creators sent.

How was I supposed to manage with only two of everything?

A rattling, clinking sound caught my attention as I stuffed everything back into the bag. I removed it all again to see a small, tiny, white cylindrical container. Curiously, twisted the lid open and saw a pill inside. I slowly poured it onto my hands to have two come out. Looking back inside the container, I saw that the pills were stacked one by one because of the short diameter. By the looks of it, there were only five pills or less. I placed it all back inside one by one, sealed it shut and read the label on it.

_Menstruation Negation._

_To be taken once a month._

_- W.I.C.K.E.D_

"Menstruation…negation?" I reread, a smile creeping over my lips. "Yes!"

The door to Alby's room suddenly burst open and Newt poked his head out. "What? Is something wrong?"

I looked at him, smiling happily and brandishing the tiny container in my hands. "Freedom!"

"Freedom from what?" Alby asked, opening the door wider.

"Monthly cycles," I answered, making Alby and Newt redden and scratch their heads awkwardly. "You wouldn't understand. I may not remember my past, but I _know _that periods are torture."

"Yeah, we don't understand," Newt mumbled. "Thank goodness for that."

I rolled my eyes and stuffed back all my supplies in the bag. "So, where am I sleeping?"

Alby and Newt exchanged a look with each other — a look that made my stomach lurch — before Alby cleared his throat.

"Okay, Andrea. Ya do know that the Gladers are shuckin' males, and obviously you can't sleep outside with them…to avoid anything from happening. And we don't really have any rooms here except for these two so...I'm gonna have to ask Gally and the builders to make another Homestead."

I blinked. "What?"

"If you're the first girl, we might be having another girl after this and probably for the approaching months. So to be ready, I'll just ask Gally to build another Homestead. For the girls."

"Are you serious?" I asked, grinning.

"Well, we can't have the girls mix in with the boys, can we?"

"Oh my god! That's great!" I squealed, bouncing lightly on my feet. Suddenly, my senses came to me and I frowned. _Build another Homestead_. Build. "Wait — how long does it take to build a place?"

This time, Newt answered. "Dunno. Probably about three weeks or more?"

"Three weeks?" I repeated, feeling my happiness evaporate. "Three weeks…then where-what if-how…I mean, where am I sleeping tonight? And the rest of the nights?"

"You'll-"

"Please don't put me outside. I _really_ don't want to sleep outside."

"Ya ain't sleeping outside," Alby sighed heavily and pointed to a door at the opposite end of the corridor. "You'll be sleeping there."

I turned around to look at the only other room up here. "There? But isn't that-"

"My room?" Newt interjected, a sly tone in his voice. "Yes."

I blinked and turned back to look at them. "No way."

"Why not?" Newt asked, smiling teasingly.

"Because…" I trailed off, not having any idea of what to say. "I don't know! I'm a girl? You're a boy?"

Newt smirked. "I can see the difference."

"But…" I bit my lips hopelessly. "No! I'm not sleeping in there if you are too!"

"It's your choice, greenie," Alby exhaled heavily, looking annoyed. "There's that or outside."

I scrunched my eyebrows together hopelessly. I didn't want to sleep outside where it was cold and packed with fifty boys but I also didn't want to sleep in Newt's room where it would be…well, just the two of us. It would be awkward and weird…but it would only be for a few weeks. Like Newt could sense the conflicting debate I had with myself, he suddenly spoke

"Fine then. I'll just share with Alby," Newt sighed dejectedly. "Take my room, whatever. Take my sleeping bag and my desk and my door and everything in my room for three weeks. Maybe even four weeks. Just take my room and leave me with this klunk-head over here. Forget that I was nice enough to give it you so you wouldn't have to sleep outside with fifty shuck-"

"Are you guilt-tripping me?" I interrupted, holding back a laugh. "Cause your not good at it."

Newt's somber expression broke into a smile. "Was worth a try."

The two leaders stared at me expectantly, waiting for an answer. Finally sighing, I said, "Fine, okay. I'll share a room with…_him_."

"_Him_?" Newt asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"I don't like you right now."

"Yeah, okay," Alby groaned, shaking his head and entering his room. "Continue your love spat somewhere else please," he said before slamming the door in our faces.

I frowned at the door and turned to glare at Newt. "I'm not sharing a sleeping bag, hammock, mattress or whatever-you-sleep-in, with you."

Newt chuckled and led me to his room. Entering, he pointed towards a hammock hanging at the corner of the room. I scowled and crossed my arms.

"I just said I'm not sleeping in there with you."

Newt exhaled and rolled his eyes. "_You _are sleeping there. _I _am going to sleep…" he trailed off, going into one corner where a stack of supplies were, and pulled out a small sleeping bag. "In this."

"Oh," I let out, feeling guilty that I was taking his hammock away from him. "You don't have to do that, really. I can sleep there. You can keep the hammock."

"You're the guest," he scoffed. "You use it."

"But I ca-"

"No, Andrea," he said seriously. "You take the hammock."

"…Andy."

"What?"

"My name…just call me Andy," I said, not knowing where I came up with that. "Andrea's kind off a mouthful."

Newt stared at me for a moment before smiling. "Okay, _Andy_."

I smiled and walked over to the hammock, seeing a pillow on it. I turned back to see Newt laying the sleeping bed on the ground. I reached out for the pillow and walked over to him, placing it on the sleeping bed. Newt looked up in surprise.

"I have a hammock. I'm literally hanging in mid-air," I said with my hands on my hips. "I don't need a pillow."

"Well thanks, then," he grinned.

"I kinda feel like I should be the one saying that."

I placed my bag on the desk, seeing papers scatter unceremoniously. I looked at the clothes in them, debating whether I should change or not. I decided that I was too exhausted and stuffed them back in, wanting to just close my eyes and sleep. Walking back to the hammock, I lied down on it slowly and took a deep breath.

"Hey, Newt?"

"Hm?"

"What color are my eyes?"

Newt's head snapped to mine as I asked the question. His mouth opened and closed, words not coming out. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for his answer. Unexpectedly, he walked to his corner of supplies and rummaged through it.

"I can't believe the Creators didn't send a mirror for me. Obviously, a girl needs one…Newt?" I asked.

"Green," he said suddenly. "Your eyes, I mean."

I frowned. "You're not even looking."

"I saw it this morning," he confessed. "It's not hard to miss since it's, well, _green_."

"Like…bright green? Forest green?" I asked again, laying on my side, facing his back. "What type of green?"

"A brownish green…maybe like a light hazel color," he said lowly, turning around and wiping a square panel with his shirt. "It's more visible in the sunlight though."

I looked at him weirdly but brushed it off. I let out a sigh and tried to imagine my face with my eyes and hair. Newt suddenly grumbled and rubbed the square panel harder. I got up and sat on the hammock, my curiosity stirred.

"What are you doing?"

He walked closer to the hammock, studying the brown panel in detail. My eyebrow raised and I started tapping my fingers on my knees, my curiosity increasing. He stopped in front of me.

"Newt?"

My blond roommate continued looking down at the panel and smiled abruptly, arousing my curiosity even further. Before I could grab the panel he was holding, he turned it around to face me. I immediately saw the image of a girl, having straight flaxen hair, round dark brownish-green eyes and fair skin. Her skin was so fair that it didn't contrast with the color of her hair at all. Her nose was round and was a fair distance from her lips, which were between being plump and thin — moderate, I guessed. Her lips parted, showing a row of straight white teeth.

An exhalation of my breath made the glass fog up and snapped me out of my trance.

"Oh my god," I breathed out, standing up and grabbing the mirror from him. "A mirror!"

"Yeah, it's been here for a long time. Came in with the first box of supplies," Newt said, smiling. "After awhile, we just stashed it away since it wasn't really useful. Lucky for you, the stash-away room is my room."

I smiled, looking at the girl in the mirror who was smiling back. Lowering it so I could face Newt, I beamed. "Thanks, Newt. Really."

"It's the least I could do."

"Least you could do?" I scoffed. "You already let me use your bedroom."

Newt shrugged and started walking to the door. "I'm going for dinner. You coming?"

I thought about it, looking at my reflection. "Nah, I ate a lot just now. Besides," I exhaled, placing the mirror down on my lap. "I'm beat."

"Okay, then. Go to sleep, greenie," he said, flashing me a blinding smile. "If you're not in La La Land by the time I get back, I'm going to force you to eat the leftovers in Frypan's kitchen."

"As if you could," I scoffed. "Now, go! You're ruining my private time with myself," I said, waving the mirror at him.

Newt rolled his eyes before shutting the door. I heard his footsteps going away and laid back down on the hammock. The mirror was stretched out in front of me, the reflection of myself being shown.

It was safe to say that I _did _look like a girl.

Even though, seeing myself didn't return a single memory like I had hoped.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry if Andrea seems like she takes everything in the Glade well…she'll be a bit more emotional in the next chapter. Just a tad bit more.<strong>

**Oh, and thanks to Missyl, Guest, Silver-Assassin7, Sam0728 and another two Guests for reviewing. You guys made my day. :)****  
><strong>

**And also, thanks to all who followed and favorited. I'll try uploading the next chapter soon.**

**Thanks for reading. :)****  
><strong>


	3. An Emotional Second Day

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Maze Runner**

**Warning: Rated T for language**

* * *

><p><span>The Girl In The Glade<span>

Chapter 3: An Emotional Second Day

"Andy," a voice called out. "Andy, wake up."

I turned in the hammock and yawned, stretching my hands out. In less than a minute, I was back in the hammock, facing the other side and dozing peacefully. I heard light chuckling. Someone shook my back gently and I grumbled, swatting the person's hands away.

"Come on, greenie. Wake up," the voice continued. "I've got to show you something," I huffed and kept blindly swatting whatever I could reach for. My hands landed on what felt like a nose and I pushed it back harshly. "Ow, greenie!" the voice hissed. "You're bloody violent, aren't you?"

I groaned at the unceasing voice. "Go away."

"Can't," it answered. "Need to show you somethin' important."

"Sleep is important," I retorted drowsily, leaning back further into the hammock. I yawned and nuzzled into my hands, my consciousness already starting to drift off once again. It wasn't even a minute later when I was shaken awake again. I growled and turned around to glare at my peace destroyer. "Why are you still here?"

Newt crossed his arms over his chest, looking amused. "Need to show you something, lass."

"Show me later," I grumbled and turned over to try getting back to sleep.

"_Later_," Newt started smugly. "You'll be looking for a job."

I finally let out an annoyed huff and opened my eyes. Newt was smiling deviously, his hands still crossed over his chest. Sitting up on the hammock, I rubbed my eyes and yawned again. "I really don't like you right now," I said to Newt blearily. "What is so important for you to destroy my peace?"

"You want to know why the Maze Doors close at night?"

My eyes immediately snapped open. I looked at him, wide eyed and disbelieving. "Are you serious?" I asked, blinking to keep my eyes from closing. To keep myself awake, I rubbed my eyes harder, pressing it and forcing friction into it. As I yawned and stretched my back, my eyes moistened and I wiped the water away.

"Your eyes are red now," Newt said after I removed my hands from my eyes.

"At least I'm awake," I retorted and stood up from the hammock. Feeling uncomfortable and sticky from not showering the day before, I asked, "Can I take a shower first?"

"No can do," Newt answered, walking to the door. "You need to see this before the others wake up."

"The others aren't…up?" I raised an eyebrow slowly, the reason to go shower right _now _strengthening. "Well that makes it better. I won't have to line up or feel awkward to shower."

Newt rolled his eyes and walked back over to me, huffing. He grabbed my arm—not harshly—and dragged me with him out of his room. I frowned and tried pulling my hand back but was too weak from just waking up. My yells of refuses went ignored by him as I half-heartedly let him pull me to our destination. I trudged down the stairs, only to see bodies of Gladers out cold on hammocks or in sleeping bags. Some of them even had cots. Envy washed over me but I shrugged it off.

Stepping out of the Homestead, I found that I didn't have to squint my eyes since the sun wasn't up yet. The sky was still a dark blue but getting lighter.

"So are you telling me where we are going?" I asked, my feet padding against the dewy grass.

Newt shook his head, his fingers still wrapped firmly around my arm. "No, you'll just have to follow."

On our way, I saw a few people at each Door. They were all in pairs and had backpacks strapped on just like Minho had on yesterday. Some of them were jumping and stretching while the others were pacing back and forth, looking to be impatient.

"Are those Runners?" I asked Newt. "At the Doors, I mean."

Newt looked at the Doors, squinted his eyes and nodded positively. I continued walking, not looking in front of me but at the Runners that were waiting for the Doors to open. Newt was literally pulling me towards were we were supposed to go already so I didn't have to worry about bumping into something.

A movement from the south wall caught my eye and I saw that it was Minho. He was waving at Newt and I almost had to smile at the brotherhood the Gladers shared in the Glade.

"Well, aren't you going to wave back?"

I raised a questioning eyebrow at Newt, who had stopped walking. "What?"

"There," he said, jerking his head towards where the waving boy was. "The shank's bloody waving at you."

"Isn't he waving at _you_…?" I asked slowly.

"Minho? Waving at me?" Newt let out a silent chuckle. "He wouldn't be waving or alerting me if a Griever was behind me."

Breathing out a small 'oh', I turned to look at Minho, who had lowered his hand. I waved back—just a tiny, gesture of my hand in contrast to his huge one—and smiled. I wasn't sure if he was able to see in the dim surroundings of the Glade.

Before he could do anything else though, a loud thundering noise blared through the Glade. The massive walls started to split and open, creating a sickening grating sound as it moved against the rough cement floor. Before the doors could open all the way though, the Runners were already speeding off, barely missing the extended spikes being pulled back.

"Come on then," Newt voiced, snapping me out of my stupor. "The Doors already opened, now the Gladers should start to wake."

I immediately frowned, the hopes of getting to shower early before the others could vanishing. As we continued walking, I noticed Newt's slight limp. Curiosity flared in me but I brushed it off, thinking it was rude to ask if turned out to be a personal or sore subject.

Suddenly, I remembered what Newt said and asked, "What are Grievers?"

"You're about to find out," he answered.

Newt walked over to the western wall and let go of my arm. Turning to his left, he beckoned for me to follow him into the forest. He started to trudge through the thick grass and walk past the trees, going deep into the darkness. Reluctantly, I followed him. The darkness in the Glade was starting to lift a little as the sky turned a light shade of purple, signaling that the sun — wherever it was — was already up.

I traipsed through the forest and followed Newt, not knowing the directions in the forest. He suddenly stopped in front of a wall — the west wall I presume — and bent down. I mirrored his movements curiously and finally asked, "Seriously, Newt. I'm getting freaked out. What are you showing me?"

Newt shushed me with a finger to his lips. I exhaled heavily, feeling annoyed. "Newt-"

"Don't talk."

Slowly, he reached out to the thick ivy covering parts of the walls and pulled them apart. The vines parted and moved out of the way as he spread them and revealed a foggy, dust-frosted window. My eyes widened and I approached the window slowly, stopping beside Newt. The window was a square, about two feet wide on each side.

I tried to see what was on the other side but saw nothing — only blackness. The curiosity in me stirred and I wondered what was beyond the glass pane. My fingers gently rested on the window and I tapped on it.

Nothing.

"What am I supposed to see?" I asked impatiently.

"Patience, greenie," Newt answered lowly. "One of 'em will come 'round. "

_One of what?_ I wanted to ask but swallowed it in, thinking that it would be wiser to wait and find out for myself. After a few minutes, nothing showed up. I sighed, trying to be patient but couldn't resist tapping my foot on the ground. Occasionally, I would turn to Newt but he would be staring at the window, calm and motionless. After about half an hour, I started growing frustrated.

"Newt-"

"There," he uttered, making look back at the window.

A small glimmer of light penetrated through the darkness and shined on us. My curiosity peeked and I moved closer to it, trying to get a glimpse of what was on the other side. My face leaned closer to the window. Everytime I breathed out, fog would cover it.

When I saw _it_ though, my breath hitched.

A giant, bulbous creature with no exact shape twisted and moved along the corridor outside. Like a predator stalking its prey, it didn't make any distinct movement. All it did was creep slowly, trying impossibly to blend in with its surroundings. The dreadful creature started climbing a wall opposite the window, moving upwards awfully slow.

"Oh my god," I breathed out and like the creature could hear me, it abruptly jumped off and slammed onto the window with a loud _bang_, startling me. I let out a surprised shriek and jumped back as the monster also bounced back and caught onto the ivy vines on the opposite walls.

The glass however, was undamaged. Not a single scratch or dent could be discerned.

"What is that?" I asked Newt breathlessly.

"A Griever," he answered in a steely voice.

I took a deep breath and leaned in again to observe the _Griever_. It looked like something out of a horror movie — like an animal that had been experimented on by a psycho doctor. It had a slug-like body, slimy and glistening. Besides that, sharp silver spikes and amounts of deathly machinery and tools stuck out from its back—blades, shears, clips and other metal weapons.

For some bizarre reason, the monster looked almost _familiar_. Each swing and clasp of its metal tools made me feel like I _knew_ what that thing was and _why _it was here. I tried reaching for something in the back of my mind — anything — about the Grievers, but I got nothing.

"So that's why we can't go into the Maze," my voice came out more like a statement instead of a question. Newt seemed to think so too since he nodded. "Has it killed anyone before?"

Newt was silent and I thought I asked something forbidden. Before I could apologize though, he answered, "Countless of us."

His answer suddenly made me feel sick. "When was the last time it killed someone?"

"A few weeks ago."

My curiosity got the better of me. "How?"

Newt let out a heavy sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. "Nick was a slinthead, that was how," he replied. "He knew the Glade's rules but he still ran out into the Maze. The Runners tried searching but couldn't find him. The Doors closed and the Grievers came out to roam like usual…"

"He was dead the next day?"

"Not quite," he shook his head. I raised an eyebrow at his answer. "The Runners found him the next day — bloody and beaten. His body was mutilated, had a few stings and was yappin' about nonsense. He was missing an arm, but still alive. Before he could be brought back to the Glade though…he died."

I nodded at Newt's story, still staring at the Griever. Newt said '_Grievers come out to roam_', so that meant that there were more than just one. _Grievers_. The word sent a chill through my body. A long, thin rod behind the Griever caught my attention.

"What's that behind the body?" I asked Newt, squinting my eyes to see it clearer. "Like a…a metal needle? What is th-"

"The stinger," Newt cut me off.

"It stabs us?"

"_Pricks _us," he corrected. "And then, if we get the serum on time, we go through the bloody Changing."

"And what's that?"

"It's…complicated," Newt said, frowning. "It's like a…a changing. I don't know how to describe it. Basically, we get some of our shuckin' memories from the past…but we go through the worst pain anyone can ever imagine to survive."

I scrunched my eyebrows in thought. "So it's bad?"

"It's _horrible_."

I nodded, swallowing the bile in my throat. "And the serum? You said that if we got it on time, we go through the changing. What if we don't?"

"If we don't, we bloody die," Newt answered grimly. "The serums — Grief Serums we call 'em — are just a box of…antidotes, I suppose, sent up here by the Creators when lots of us died after being stung. If it weren't for the serums, most of us would probably be dead."

"Who's survived?" I asked curiously.

"A few…not much," he said. "All of them changed after the Changing. Dunno what they saw to change so much but it was bad. They never talk about it. One of those shanks is Gally."

I didn't know who Gally was, but I already felt pity for him. Slowly, I stood straight up and let the vines fall back into place, covering the window and the image of the Griever. I turned back to Newt, who was still staring at the window, a stern look on his face. I licked my dry lips and sighed, wanting to just forget about the Griever and take a shower.

"So," I cleared my throat, snapping Newt out of his thoughts. "Can I go shower now?"

* * *

><p>After Newt brought me back to the Homestead, he gave me a clean towel and left to go meet Alby. With him gone, I was all alone in the room and the peace and quiet gave me time to think.<p>

Yesterday, everything seemed like a dream, where I would wake up and be in my room, my house, and be with my parents again. Everything looked so _different _that it just couldn't be real. In the real world there were houses and restaurants and kids had _parents_! No one just woke up in a far away place with no memory whatsoever.

The first day seemed like an imaginary, fictitious, make believe day where I just had to endure everything and wake up back with my memories in the real world. A thought that I was being pranked cruelly also crossed my mind. Nothing had bothered me because I had thought all that.

Seeing the Griever changed everything.

This was _real_ and _happening_. I was sent here by some enigmatic _Creators _to live in this 'obviously-_human-_made' field with over fifty boys for a reason I knew not of. What made them do this? Why did they have to take _children _and trap them in this place where we had to survive from being eaten by the monsters out there? Who were we before and why us? What was happening in the real world?

I wanted _answers_ but even the Gladers didn't have those.

They were trapped here just like me.

Tears started gathering in my eyes as I tried yet again to reach out for something in my mind, but just like every other try, I found nothing. How could they do that? How could the Creators take away all my memories but not my experience? I mean, I had to _remember _experience to actually execute it, but that wasn't happening.

I knew about houses, people, hospitals, high school drama, etiquette, girls having their periods, writing, eating and all things general.

I just didn't remember _learning _them.

And it sucked.

Wiping my tears away, I grabbed my items from the red bag the Creators sent and walked out to wherever the bathroom was. Because Newt was so intelligent, he didn't remember to tell me where the damn bathroom was. As I walked with my towel in one hand and my clothes in the other, I felt like I belonged in a boarding school or university where I had to share the bathroom with other people.

Swallowing my pride—not that I had much of it—I asked some Gladers where the bathrooms were. Of course, being the boys they were, they would look at the towel in my hands to my body and smirk. I tried my hardest to not lash out at them with my towel. They still told me where the bathroom was though.

Arriving at the bathroom, I saw that it was just like a bathroom you would find in a community college or a boarding school—the only difference was that it was made by wood and jaggedly cut concrete. People were lining up in front of doors, waiting patiently for the people inside to finish. There were only five shower cubicles in the bathroom and only seven or so Gladers were present.

"You're late, girl," a boy said, standing outside a cubicle door. "Most of us finished freshenin' up a while ago."

"Yeah, cause most of them don't even _shower_," another scoffed.

"It's okay," I said, gripping my towel tighter. "I'd rather go last…or first. Just not when so many people are around."

The first boy smirked. "Why? Afraid of lil' peepin' Toms?"

"Kind off," I answered honestly, giving him a glare. "A girl can never be too sure, can she?"

The boys snickered, making me frown and glare more.

"You don't wanna use the first and last cubicles then," he said, jerking his head towards both the said cubicles on each end of the bathroom. "They have windows."

"…Thanks," I said slowly and leaned back against the wall, patiently waiting for the others to finish.

When the last boy left, I quickly made my way into the middle shower and shut the door. Unfortunately, the doors didn't have any locks. I grunted in frustration and looked around to see only _one_ hook on the wall. I hung my clean shirts before hanging the towel and turned on the shower tap. The shocking, cold water poured onto me and I grit my teeth to keep myself from yelping.

"Andy?" a voice called, making me turn around and press my hand on the door hastily. "Are you in here?"

"Yeah!" I called out. "Who is that?"

"It's me, Newt," the voice said, sounding closer to the door. "Are you finished yet?"

"Obviously no, genius," I growled out, annoyed that he disturbed my shower time. "Can you leave now, please?"

I heard Newt chuckle and rap on the door, making me jump. I was already nervous and on edge by being in the shower — naked, might I add — while knowing that fifty Gladers were somewhere out there. Having Newt right outside the door was really not something I appreciated right at that moment. It was so awkward.

"Newt, get out!"

"I am out. I'm not in the shower with you, am I?"

I blushed and was glad to have the door separating us so he couldn't see my face. "I meant out of the bathroom! Go!"

Newt chuckled once more and tapped on the door again. I let out an irritated huff and he laughed again before slamming the bathroom door shut. Letting out a heavy sigh, I turned back to the shower and decided to just finish up quickly. After rinsing my hair and changing into my clean clothes — which were _hard _by the way, considering there was only _one hook _— I exited the despicable shower and headed to the door.

As I walked out though…

"Boo!"

I let out a loud scream and dropped my things on the ground. My eyes snapped up to see Newt laughing, leaning casually on the bathroom's wooden wall. My eyes narrowed in fury and I punched his shoulder. Unfortunately though, he only continued laughing.

"Newt, you…" I huffed, trying to find words but only managed an aggravated, "God!"

"I'm a god?" he asked, cocking his eyebrows.

Instantly, I felt my face heat up but covered it by bending down to pick my stuff up. "Yeah, god of the idiots."

Newt scoffed and commented, "You shower really long."

"I _wanted _to go last! And whose idea was it to show me the Griever this morning?" I hissed, holding my dirty clothes and towels to my chest.

"You didn't exactly refuse."

I rolled my eyes and huffed. "What are you even doing here?"

"Alby says it's time for you to spend time with the Keepers."

"For what?"

"Your job, greenie," Newt said smugly, crossing his arms. "It's time for you to find a job."

* * *

><p>Gardening was not fun. Zart — the Keeper of the Track-hoes — was nice enough to take me being a girl into account and didn't give me any hard jobs like yanking out weeds or harvesting. Instead, he let me plant seeds — chili seeds, to be exact. He explained how to plant them and how it was the easiest job a Gardner could have.<p>

So that was why I was covered in dirt from head to toe, grumbling as I planted the troublesome seeds. Newt obviously forgot to tell me that I was going to spend time around dirt and be covered in sweat at the end of the day. If I had known, I wouldn't have showered in the morning and showered at night instead — after all the torturous works were over.

My hands were covered in dirt from digging the holes to plant the seeds. Even my forehead had dirt covering it from wiping sweat away. My knees and legs were dirty too from crouching on the dirt.

Suddenly, I heard someone snicker.

I looked up to see — oh, what a surprise — Newt. For some reason, he was always around me. He had his arms crossed, a wicked grin on his lips.

"Oh, ha ha. Funny," I sneered. "Glad to know my misery amuses you."

"You're planting them wrong," he said knowingly. "They're too close to each other."

"There'll be space to plant more, then."

"They won't have the _space_ to grow," he answered smugly.

I stopped planting and glowered at him. "Well, if you're such a genius at planting, why don't you do this?"

Newt rolled his eyes and walked over to the plant beds and squatted down facing me. He grabbed the spade, which I threw down in an irritated fit, and started digging a hole. Unlike all the holes I dug, his was perfectly round and hollow. Newt glanced up after digging and flashed me a self-satisfied smile. I rolled my eyes.

"After digging, you plant the seeds in," he said in a smart tone, making me frown. He put one seed in the hole and started blanketing with the dirt he dug out. "Then you just cover it up. There. Easy."

I sent him a scathing look and threw the bag of seeds at him. "Do the rest."

"Hah, not a chance, greenie," he retorted and threw the bag back at me. "It's your tryout, not mine."

"Can I just…I don't know…_not _tryout for this?" I asked, brushing the dirt of my knees. "I mean, I basically failed already — look at the whole bed! They're all close."

Newt sighed and stood up, holding his hand out to mine. I observed it, and raised a questioning eyebrow. He shook it and said in an exasperated voice, "Take it, greenie. God…" I wanted to slap myself for being stupid but grabbed his hand. As he pulled me up, he said, "You're really slow in the head, aren't you?"

I frowned at the insult. "Shut up," I said and dusted the dirt of my pants. "Now what? Am I getting a break?"

"Psh, no," Newt answered, walking over to where the crops were growing. "You're going to pick out tomatoes."

"Oh, come on," I whined hopelessly. "No…"

"It's easy," Newt assured, pulling out a tomato from its mother plant. "See? Just pick out the ripe ones and put them in the basket."

I let out a heavy sigh and walked over to the crops. I picked out a tomato that looked ripe and rolled it into the basket. Feeling confident that it was an easy job, I smiled. As I turned to pick another one, Newt decided to rain on my parade.

"That one wasn't ripe."

I turned to him and bit my lip to keep myself from screaming. "Well, _how _do you know which is ripe and which isn't?"

"The ripe ones are red," Newt said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "That one was orange."

I gaped. "Well then every tomato here is orange!"

"I picked out a red one," Newt shrugged. "I can _see _red ones everywhere."

Huffing, I turned back to the tomato plants and strained my eyes to find one that was red, and not orange. I found a tomato that was slightly redder than others and touched it, turning to Newt. He nodded. I tried pulling out the tomato but it refused to budge. I frowned and yanked it out harder, only to have it plunge into the ground and splat its insides everywhere.

"Are you freaking serious?" I seethed under my breath, glaring at the tomato on the ground.

"Are you doing that on purpose so you don't have to be a Track-hoe?" Newt asked, amused.

"I _don't _want to be a Track-hoe," I growled out. "_Because _I can't do this."

Newt laughed and shook his head. "Better stop you before you destroy more of the crops. Zart'll be mad if you do. And Zart never gets mad."

Scoffing, I walked over to him as he started making his way to Zart. Fearful of facing the Keeper, I stayed behind.

For job tryouts, a Track-hoe was a definite fail.

* * *

><p>Later on that night—after I finished showering <em>again<em>—I lied on Newt's hammock and thought about…nothing.

For some reason, I felt distressed.

Newt had left for dinner after I refused to follow. I was hungry—_so hungry_—after my day with Zart, but I couldn't eat. Even smelling Frypan's delicious cooking made me feel like throwing up. I couldn't even _think_ of food without my stomach lurching negatively. The exhaustion I felt did a lot to help though, since I couldn't even stand up now, less of all _walk_ to the dining area to eat.

I was feeling troubled for some reason. Throughout the whole day, I kept holding back the uneasy feeling and the tears that threatened to leak out from showing. Seeing the Grievers that morning took a big toll on me and I wasn't over it yet. I laid on the hammock, trying hard to focus on the positive things in the Glade—Chuck, Newt, no school, no family drama…only, it was too little. Compared to all the negative things in the Glade, the positive things were like a tiny ember in a huge ground of coal.

My eyes watered as I thought back to working at the Gardens. I hated it and couldn't imagine going through the same things with the other Keepers. Maybe I was being a brat by not wanting to work, but all I wanted was to just go home—wherever home was—and remember my life.

All I needed was my mom's hug, but I didn't have one.

Not in the Glade.

Quietly, I sobbed. The room was empty except for me, and it was the perfect opportunity to cry all I wanted. I didn't want to be in the Glade, I wanted to be at home. _Home_! I wanted to eat my mom's cooking and watch TV with my dad, play games with my siblings and friends, and listen to my grandmother—if I had one—blabbering about nonsense.

The pain in my chest intensified as I imagined everything. That was all I could do—_imagine_. Maybe I didn't even have a family. Maybe my mom died giving birth to me and my dad didn't even cared to know she was pregnant. Maybe I was a mistake. Maybe that was why I was sent to the Glade.

Maybe this place was for unwanted children.

They had to have a reason for sending us here, right?

I slumped deeper into the hammock and cried, all sorts of possibilities running through my mind.

One thing was for sure; I didn't want to live in the Glade.

* * *

><p>"Andy?" a soft voice called out. I frowned and opened my eyes sleepily. I wasn't aware that I had cried myself to sleep. I rubbed my eyes, trying to see if any tears were currently running but was thankful to find none. Sitting up on the hammock, I faced the worried face of my roommate.<p>

"Oh hey, Newt," I said and cleared my throat when it came out croaky. "Hey."

"Were you crying?" he asked suddenly, watching me closely.

I shook my head and wiped my cheeks again in case I missed any tears. "No, I…" Newt looked at me sternly, as if daring me to contradict him. "I didn't…it was nothing."

"I can see the tear tracks, you know," he said. "And your eyes are red."

"Forget it, Newt," I said sharply, not wanting his pity.

"Fine," he shrugged reluctantly and settled a bag of bread on my lap. "You haven't eaten."

"I'm not hung-"

"You haven't eaten the _whole _day," he crossed his arms and looked at me seriously. "Not breakfast, not lunch and not even dinner."

"I'm not hungry!" I frowned, shoving the bread back into his hands. "I just don't feel like eating."

He scrutinized me for a moment before raising his eyebrows skeptically. "You're not one of those girls that starve themselves to be skinny, are you?"

"What? No, I'm not," I scowled, countering his accusation. "I'm just not hungry."

Newt took the bag of bread from me and opened it. He tore off a small portion of bread and held it out it to me. I stared at it, feeling my hunger increase and my stomach growl for food. Unfortunately, the rest of my body didn't want to accept the bread so I shook my head.

"Oh come on, Andy," Newt sighed. "It's just bread. One bite at least."

"I can't, Newt," I asserted, aiming to sound strong but ended up sounding strained. The tears threatened to pool in my eyes again but I blinked them away. "I can't eat anything, not right now. I…" I trailed off, not knowing what other reason to give him.

Newt inhaled deeply and exhaled, the bread still held out towards me. "Just one piece, just this one." he insisted. I was about to retort again when he said, "Please?"

I stared into Newt's eyes, seeing him nod and urging me on to eat the bread. My eyes locked on the piece of bread he tore off. It looked tempting with its white, fluffy interior. The outer layer of the bread was perfectly toasted and golden, like it had just been kissed by the sun. I mentally drooled at the sight of it. It looked so appetizing and soft, I bet it would melt just if I took a nibble out of it.

Damn, what hunger made me think.

"Fine," I sighed and grabbed the piece of bread from him. Hesitatingly, I placed the bread into my mouth and chewed, tasting the wonderful plain taste of bread. "There, happy?" I asked after swallowing the bread. Newt nodded and kept staring at me hardly, not cracking a smile. My eyes glanced to the bag he was holding and I unwillingly licked my lips.

"You want more?" he asked in mock-surprise, his lips curling into a smirk.

"No-" I paused, the remaining taste of bread in my mouth. My stomach growled for more and I sighed. Screw my pride and the rest of my body possibly rejecting the nutrients. I grabbed the bag of bread from Newt. "Give me."

Newt snickered and crossed his arms smugly.

I ate the bread, chewing and swallowing hungrily. Before I could even finish it though, he asked, "So, do you want to talk about it?"

I immediately stopped chewing and frowned, not too cheery about my homesickness. I set the bread down and Newt suddenly looked alarmed. "No! Don't stop eating! Just talk."

"It's not good to talk while eating."

"It's impractical."

Sighing, I stuffed another torn piece of bread in my mouth. "There, see? I'm eating."

"Good that. Now talk."

"Do I have to?" I asked heavy-heartedly.

"You know you'll vent sooner or later," he retorted and begrudgingly, I accepted the fact that he was right.

"Fine, fine," I sighed and stuffed the last piece of bread into my mouth. I took my time chewing and swallowing it, not exactly excited at the thought of telling Newt my feeble problems. "I guess I'm just...homesick, I don't know," I blurted out quickly after swallowing.

"Homesick?"

"Yeah, I know, it's stupid," I rolled my eyes, trying not to have a crying episode. "I don't even remember anything but…I don't know. I just am."

Newt stared at me, almost pityingly, and for some reason, it made me want to cry. I didn't want pity but I couldn't help but _need_ it. It was pathetic of me, I know.

The tears once again welled up in my eyes and I blinked them away. Unfortunately though, they came back with backup and forced a tear to roll down my cheek. I tried to wipe it off quickly but knew that Newt already saw it.

"Do you ever feel that?" I asked quickly, hoping to distract him while I looked down to wipe my tears and save myself the embarrassment. "Homesickness for a home you don't even remember?"

Newt thought for a moment before answering, "It's not homesickness…just a bit of a culture shock, I think."

Culture shock. _Culture shock_. Maybe. Maybe it was just that. I didn't really have a home to miss…I just hated the Glade. I also hated that I didn't remember anything, especially my family. I missed random things like technology, swimming, riding a bike, air conditioners, _cellphones_ and basically, things that the Glade didn't provide.

So I guess it wasn't homesickness—just me being a brat for not liking the culture in the Glade.

Wow. That wasn't as shocking as I expected.

"I guess…I guess you're right," I choked out, feeling upset. "Newt-"

_Slam._

I jumped and sat up, rigid and straight. The door was shut and Newt was nowhere to be seen. All of a sudden, I felt like crying again, which sickened me. Was Newt mad that I didn't like the Glade? Or was he just annoyed at me? Maybe he finally had it with my attitude. I wasn't sure, but the door _slammed_.

Slamming of doors meant pissed of people.

Throwing the empty bag to the floor vigorously, I laid back on the hammock. I stared up at the ceiling, frowning. A rush of anger went through me. Who was he to be mad? These were my feelings. _I _hated the Glade, and I had a right to. Everything was just so _different_, and I wasn't used to it. Not yet, but maybe after awhile. So who was he to leave and slam doors like that?

At that moment, I absolutely despised the Glade, and everything in it.

Suddenly, the door burst open and Newt appeared, looking disheveled. He flashed me a bright smile, which confused me.

"I thought you needed some cheering up and I'm…not good at those things," Newt confessed sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. "So I brought this shank up to cheer you."

Then, he moved over to reveal a young, excited, chubby Glader.

"Chuck?"

* * *

><p>We were standing outside the bathroom, with me still processing Chuck's <em>remarkable<em> escapade. Darkness was all that surrounded us and the only faint beam of light came from the bathroom window. My ears picked up some shuffling on the inside, along with water running.

I sharply jerked my head to my side when I heard light panting and rustling. Chuck came tumbling out of the woods, holding a long, thin, tree branch that had ovate leaves draping off it. He proudly raised it above his head.

"Chuck, are you serious about this?" I asked; I was still not fully convinced that his prank was going to turn out well.

"Yup," he whispered. "I do it all the time. It's really fun."

My eyes snapped to the bathroom window again. Obviously, somebody was in there and had no idea about our little scheme. My skin unexpectedly trickled with both excitement and fear. Bouncing lightly on my feet, I felt my heartbeat increase and the thrill multiplying.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" I asked Chuck.

He grinned widely at my question and crept over to the window. There was a big wooden box underneath the window and he stepped on it, crouching down so that the person inside had no sight of him. He slowly lifted up the leafy branch and shook it against the window. It made a sharp, noisy rustle and Chuck immediately ran back over to my side and hid behind a tree.

I peered out the side of the tree stem, hoping that no one would see me. My eyes darted to the window and the light from inside suddenly disappeared as a shadow covered it. I pulled my head back swiftly and leaned against the tree trunk, my heart beating fast that I could almost hear it.

"I think he's gone," Chuck whispered and looked at the window. He turned back to me and nodded enthusiastically. "Watch, this is the best part."

Hesitantly, I poked my head out and squinted my eyes to see Chuck stomping over to the light switch at the entrance of the bathroom. Sweat trickled down my forehead, as I felt worried for him if he suddenly got caught. With no hesitation, Chuck flicked the switch off and hurried back to me, not making a single sound even with the grassy ground.

"Who's there?" a deep voice asked as I stiffened. "Seriously, if I catch you shuck-faces, you're gonna regret it."

A thread of feelings similar to fear grew in me. I looked at Chuck, praying that he would just stop and leave, but it was to no avail. Chuck grinned again, his eyes crinkling with joy. He glanced at the entrance and saw no one. Then, he turned to me.

"This is the pinnacle, okay? So you gotta join in," he instructed. Before I could refuse, he continued. "You go switch the light of one last time and when he turns it back on, I'll scream, got it?" Chuck briefed without missing a beat. He smiled widely and said in an excited voice, "He'll be so scared, he'll klunk his pants!"

Before I knew what was going on, Chuck pushed me out from my safe hiding spot into the open. Feeling panicked and frightened, I tried to run back to him but he shook his head and gestured for me to go. I spared a glimpse at the switch and swallowed nervously. Lightly, I stepped towards it and paced my hand on the switch. Inhaling one last time, I flicked it off.

Unfortunately, as the lights went out, my eyesight did too. The darkness was blinding and I didn't know where my safe tree was. Footsteps made me curse mentally and twitch in extreme terror.

"Got you," an amused voice said, making me jump back in fright.

The light switch was turned back on and immediately, I saw a familiar face stare at me while I tried to get up and make a run for it.

"Baaaah!" a loud, shrill voice shouted, scaring both the boy and I. The boy turned his head around to search for the owner of the scream but Chuck was suddenly already next to me, tugging my sleeves and urging me to run.

Not sparing a glance back, I ran. The more I remembered the face of our victim, the more I wanted to escape the place. I recognized the boy—it was Minho.

We just pranked the Keeper of the Runners.

* * *

><p>"That was fun, huh?" Chuck asked, looking happy. I couldn't help but smile.<p>

"Yeah, sure. Except that I got caught," I retorted as he settled into his poorly made hammock. "But it was kind of fun, I guess."

Chuck laughed and smiled. "Of course it was, I told you so," he said. He paused for a while, looking unsure before asking, "Are you okay, now?"

I smiled and nodded, touched by his concern. "Yeah, I'm okay now."

"Good that," he answered, smiling brightly in the dark. The urge to pinch his cheeks was overwhelming me but I didn't. He yawned and said, "I should probably go to sleep now. Need to wash some clothes tomorrow."

My smile faded. I wished that Chuck could've been treated a bit better by the other Gladers. He was a Slopper and his job was basically to do the jobs the other Gladers didn't want. What did anyone else expect? He was only twelve. He didn't deserve any of this. I was struck by a feeling of sympathy for the poor kid.

"Well, then get some rest," I settled on saying, ruffling his hair. "Goodnight, Chuck."

"Goodnight, Andy," he said back, his smile still shining. "See ya tomorrow."

After leaving Chuck, I carefully walked back to the Homestead, making sure I didn't step on any of the bodies in the sleeping bags scattered across the ground. Pranking with Chuck took my mind off things. Even if I _did_ get caught — which was highly embarrassing — I had a fun time watching him cheekily pull the pranks. I guess the Glade wasn't so bad after all.

Entering the Homestead, I looked down at the cots and sleeping bags on the floor. I sighed and tiptoed across the room to get back to Newt's room. With my eyes concentrated on the floor to avoid any mishaps, I didn't realize that I was headed straight into someone.

"Out late, greenie?"

"Shit," I cursed in shock as I stepped back from the person in front of me. My shoes landed on something squishy and I looked down, wishing that it wasn't a hand or finger. Thankfully, it was just a corner of a sleeping bag. My eyes snapped back up to the person and I immediately flushed in humiliation. "M-Minho…hey."

Minho stood in front of me, arms crossed and smirking. "Hey," he answered. "So where were you at this time of the night?"

"Um…I was just, uh, outside…?" I stammered nervously. "With Chuck."

"Yeah, and what exactly were you doing with Chuck?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow, with his knowing smirk still plastered on.

I struggled to come up with an excuse. "Nothing…just breathing. I-I mean, getting some fresh air…to breathe…yeah," I felt like hitting myself at my inability to lie swiftly.

Minho let out a low scoff. "Okay. You do know that you're the _only_ shuck-Glader here with long, light blond hair, right?"

"…really?"

"Fine, pretend that it wasn't you, whatever," Minho shrugged and rolled his eyes. I frowned at his impassiveness but then, he chuckled—a deep, chilling chuckle that made me shiver.

"But, remember," he said, a devious smile spreading on his lips and an intimidating twinkle forming in his eyes. He stalked over to me, and with my feet on a sleeping bag; I would most likely squish someone if I stepped back. I stiffened as Minho got closer and leaned down to my ear, whispering in a low voice, "I'll get you back, and you won't suspect a thing when it happens."

With that, Minho straightened back up and grinned. He studied my petrified expression and stiff posture before laughing.

"You newbies," he shook his head. "Too easy. You're all so funny."

"What?" I asked, confused at his sudden mood change.

"Nothing," he answered vaguely, the twinkle in his eyes still present. "You better hurry up, your roomie's waiting for you."

"O…kay," I blinked and nodded uncertainly. Slowly moving away from him, I tiptoed over and across the rest of the body field and hastily walked up the stairs. For some reason, something in me itched to look back at Minho and when I did, I saw him staring at me, the weird twinkle and smile still on his face.

When he saw me glance back, he raised his hand and mock-saluted me before flashing a grin and turning to walk over to his cot. I couldn't help but smile at his comical gesture. Inhaling deeply, I trudged back up the stairs to Newt's room.

* * *

><p>When I opened the door to the room, I saw that Newt was already in his sleeping bag, asleep. Trying to stay as silent as possible as to not wake him up, I tiptoed again across the floor to the hammock. Arriving there, I dusted the hammock off and lied down in it, my mind cleared and able to sleep.<p>

"So did you have fun?" Newt's voice suddenly broke through the silence.

"Oh my god…Newt, stop doing that," I said, startled, and referred to that morning outside the bathroom. Newt chuckled softly. It took a moment for me to register what he just asked. "Yeah, I had fun."

"Good that," he replied. "You okay now?"

"Yeah, I'm alright now," I answered, smiling at him.

The silence crept back into the room and I sighed. Physically, I was so exhausted that I could sleep for a whole week but my mental mind just didn't let that happen. The silence in the room stretched and was now uncomfortable for me. Sleep didn't come as easy as I thought it would.

"Hey, Newt?" I called out, praying he was still awake.

Immediately, I heard a hum come from him. "Hm?"

"Thanks for what you did back there," I said. "Getting Chuck and all…I needed it."

My face tilted to the side to look at him, and I gave a shy smile. Newt saw this and smiled back, his eyebrows scrunching up confusingly though. He gave a 'your welcome' nod and went back to closing his eyes. I tried doing the same.

"Hey, Andy?" he called out after awhile.

I opened my eyes and turned to face him. "Hm?"

"Do you like me?" he asked, a coy smile on his face.

I blinked and raised an eyebrow, thinking I heard him wrongly. "Sorry, what?"

"You like me don't you?" he repeated, his smile turning teasing. "That's why you're so nice to me now."

"Wha-? I…I just said thank you, Newt," I replied incredulously, shaking my head. "_Thank you_. Where did _liking you_ come from?"

"Oh, admit it. You like me," he said again, bobbing his head as he talked. His teasing smile was wide and his eyebrows wriggled in pretense flirtation. I threw my head to one side and laughed at him.

"Yeah, I like it when you shut up," I retorted, trying to pull a serious face but failing. Newt chuckled and I couldn't help but laugh along.

Overall, the second day wasn't _bad _but it wasn't also good. Knowing that I had friends though—Newt and Chuck—helped a lot with accepting the Glade. No matter how cliché it was, I went to bed that night with a smile on my face.

I guess the Glade wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

><p><strong>There you go—chapter 3. <strong>

**I love reviews. Keep them coming and I'll _try_ posting the next chapter faster…no promises though. Oh, and I'm sorry if the chapters are too long. I've tried shortening them and contemplated splitting them into two but then I just…don't do anything. It happens to me.**

**Thanks for reading. :)**


	4. Exhausting Job Tryouts

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Maze Runner.**

**Warning: Rated T for language**

* * *

><p><span>The Girl In The Glades<span>

Chapter 4: Exhausting Job Tryouts

The next day, Newt woke me up to go meet with Alby. He said that it was important for my future in the Glade — I was scared when he said that at first, but then I realized that he was only being over dramatic. Thankfully, whatever he wanted to show me this time wasn't as important as seeing the Grievers since he let me sleep in.

I felt a lot better when I woke up that day. No thoughts of Grievers or hating the Glade haunted me. I didn't feel like crying at all. In fact, I felt glad. For some reason, the events I went through last night helped extremely, even though all I did was watch Chuck prank a Glader, got caught at the same time, intimidated by Minho and was accused by Newt that I liked him.

Somehow, it all helped me get over my homesickness and culture shock.

"So are you telling me where we're going this time?" I asked Newt as we walked across the Glade.

"Yes," he answered simply.

I waited for him to continue but he didn't. A minute passed and I asked, "So _where_ are we going?"

"I'll tell you when we get there."

Rolling my eyes, I sighed and continued to trail behind him, not sure of where we were going. After my episode with the Grievers, I was sure that there was nothing else left for me to discover but perhaps I was wrong. Maybe Newt was going to take me to see some other monster that could spit acid and crush humans with their bodies like anacondas.

Anything could happen, right?

As we strolled through the grounds of the Glade, I noticed that lesser Gladers were staring at me. Every stare that used to make me uneasy and self-conscious were gone and replaced with friendly smiles. I felt my heart well up with joy and satisfaction at the change. Maybe they were starting to accept me and not think of me as an outsider anymore.

After a few minutes of walking and conversing with Newt, I saw Alby and a few other Gladers near the corner of the western wall, opposing the Deadheads. I caught sight of numerous tools, wood and concrete mixture. As we got closer, I also saw one large cement mixer among the many items.

"Hey, Alby!" Newt called out, gaining the attention of the Glade's leader and the few Gladers around him. Unconsciously, I slowed down, not thoroughly excited at the number of Gladers present. Newt smiled and greeted them all. "Morning."

"Mornin' to ya too, Newt," Alby replied, smiling, as did the other boys. Then, he turned to me and gave a curt nod. "Andrea."

"Hi," I said, smiling nervously. Being around too many Gladers still made me uncomfortable despite the lack of stares.

Alby turned to a tall, dark-haired Glader behind him and exchanged a few words with him. He turned back to face Newt and I and cleared his throat. "Okay, Andrea. As ya know, I've said on your first day that we can't have any girls mixing with the boys, right? So the only option is to build another Homestead."

I nodded, having an idea to what he where he was going.

"This is Gally," Alby introduced, gesturing to the tall boy next to him. "He's the Keeper of the Builders."

The tall boy walked forward, his face impassive. He gave me a welcoming nod and crossed his arms, aiming to look reputable. I narrowed my eyes; taking in his tall, lean stance and unusual curvy eyebrows. I found him to be suspiciously recognizable. I've seen him before but I forgot where.

"I know you," I voiced out, frowning. The Gladers behind him stiffened, as did Newt and Alby. Their eyes snapped to me, who was studying Gally rigorously. "I remember you…"

"What, Andy?" Newt asked, surprise and concern on his face. "What do you remember?"

I frowned at Gally, trying to remember where I saw him. All I could remember was my time in the Glade and nothing before, so something happened to me _here_, with him involved. My eyes widened visibly as I remembered and blurted out, "You're the one who embarrassed me on my first day!"

Exasperated sighs echoed through the field as I declared that. I heard Alby swear silently and felt his glare on me, but I didn't mind him. I kept my eyes firmly on Gally, crossing my arms to match him.

Gally scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. "What?"

"On my first day," I started, stomping over to him. "You embarrassed me at lunch."

"How did I embarrass you?"

"You told the other boys to move out of the line," I explained, still frowning. "I could've just lined up like every other person."

At that, Gally rolled his eyes and let out a scoff. "Glad to know you appreciated the help."

"I could've lined up. Like everyone else did."

"And embarrass yourself more by standing there like a lost person?"

I glared at Gally, feeling heat rush up to my face. "You're not nice."

"I helped you," Gally replied coolly.

"…whatever."

"You really like having the last word, don't you?" Newt interjected, chuckling.

Before I could retort, Alby cleared his throat loudly and walked closer to the two of us.

"As I was saying," he started in an annoyed voice. "Gally here is the Keeper of the Builders. He will be in charge of building the Girl's Homestead. Behind him are his Builders. They will be the ones making the whole shuckin' building."

"Oh, okay," I nodded, not knowing what else to do.

Alby turned to Gally and whispered a few words to him. I questioned my presence being there. Did he want me to join them in building or something? Looking at the wood and all the implements on the floor, I wasn't sure if I could actually do anything to help. Sure, it was exciting to think about having my own place and be apart of the crew that invented it but I wasn't sure if I could help create it.

If anything, I would probably ruin the whole place.

"Okay, Andrea," Gally suddenly spoke. "Do you have any ideas?"

"Um…I don't know?" I blinked unintelligently. Just so I wouldn't sound too stupid, I added, "Do _you_ have any ideas?"

"I figured we could make it in style of a ranch," Gally said without hesitation. "The Homestead stairs broke too many times before. I don't think girls would appreciate that."

I nodded at his wise notion. "Yeah, that sounds good."

"We wont make it too big, since we don't actually know for sure if a girl _is _coming next month or if a shuck boy is. Maybe they'll switch between sending girls and boys, or just send five more girls and stop. I don't know, no one does. So just to be safe, we won't waste the Glade's supplies unless we're completely sure."

I didn't know why he was explaining all that to me, but something told me that I should ask a question to not seem ignorant. "What if more girls _do _come and there isn't enough space?"

"Then we'll expand it," he shrugged. "Not that hard."

"Okay," I answered. "That's great…have you come out with a layout?"

"Yup," Gally nodded, looking pleased that I asked that. "There're a few shucky sketches but basically, it'll consist of separate accommodations—not like the current Homestead—because I'm pretty sure girls are more…_demanding_ when it comes to privacy. It'll also be design in a square shape, so each room will be on the sides. I predict about three rooms on one side and about two or three shuck girls in there. That's enough for time being, I guess."

"Okay."

I stood there, staring stupidly at the Builders and the tools lying around. My head spun as I thought about the Girl's Homestead. Scrutinizing the tools on the ground and the space provided, it was hard to picture a Homestead standing there. Alby seemed to have confidence in Gally though, and Gally looked like he had everything planned out.

"Do you want anything specific?" he asked when he noticed me staring at the Girl's Homestead site, looking pitifully confounded. "Door carvings? Window positions?"

"I can…do that?" I blinked. "Ask for something particular?"

"Sure, why not?" he shrugged nonchalantly. "You're already getting your own room since you're the first girl."

My eyes widened visibly at the fact. "Seriously?"

"I've just said it, greenie. Yes," Gally said, looking mildly annoyed. He turned to Newt and asked, "Is she always this…slow?"

I heard Newt's small chuckle before her replied, "Yes."

"I'm not slow," I said immediately, frowning. "It's just…a lot to take in."

"Not really," Gally scoffed. "You know, the other boys would be ecstatic if they had another Homestead. Instead you're here like you don't even care."

"I do-"

"Psh, she's sleeping in my room," Newt interrupted me, crossing his arms smugly. "Why would she care?"

I whipped my head around to give Newt a glare. He saw me and winked, making me roll my eyes. A smile threatened to rise in response to his ridiculous attempt at a flirty wink, but I bit my lips to prevent it.

"You are so full of yourself, you know that?"

Newt smiled, unfazed by my insult. "If by 'yourself' you mean alluring charm, then yes. I guess I am full with that."

I shook my head, rolling my eyes once more at his cocky comment. The boys around us looked from Newt to me suspiciously, some of them wearing smirks on. Deciding to ignore them and Newt, I turned back to Gally who was waiting patiently for my answer to his earlier question. I cleared my throat nervously to reply.

"Everything seems great. You look like you've figured everything out and I don't want to get in the way of that," I said. "And I don't think there's anything specific I want. You can just…do what you planned."

Gally nodded, rubbing his hands together. "Good that. Makes it easier for us."

Alby then made his way over to Gally and they started talking in low voices—too low for me to hear. I bounced lightly on my feet, wringing my hands and gazing at the grass to avoid the stares of the Builders.

"You don't look excited to know about the new Homestead," Newt's voice said from behind my ear. "Any particular reason for that?"

I rolled my eyes at his teasing tone. "Even if I did have any particular reason, it wouldn't involve you."

"Ouch," he faked a silly pout that made me smile slightly. Newt saw that and grinned. "Ah, see that? You _do _like me."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Newt," I sighed heavily with a roll of my eyes.

Newt snickered, observing my constant eye roll. "Keep doing that and your eyes will pop out of their shuck sockets."

"I'll be waiting for the day that happens," I retorted, smirking.

Newt chuckled and stood next to me, waiting for Alby and Gally to finish up their conversation. A series of confused expressions and jerks of heads were exchanged between the two as Gally pointed to the site and to the implements on the ground. When they seemed over with their talk, they both nodded at each other and turned to Newt and I.

"Okay, greenie. It'll take approximately 3 weeks to build the place. If we work harder, it'll probably even be lesser than that," Gally explained.

"Oh, it's okay," I said instantly, shaking my head. "Take your time." As I said that, I saw Newt's grin widen as he observed me closely. Scrunching my eyes in confusion, I asked, "What?"

"Nothing," he replied, smirking slyly.

"Seriously, why are you—no," I deadpanned, realizing why he was smirking. "I did not mean it in that way."

"In what way?" Newt asked innocently, his smirk still playing on his lips.

"In…_that _way," I said hesitantly, flustered. "In the way you're thinking about it!" Newt didn't respond and only continued smirking smugly. "Seriously, I just meant, you know…no pressure or anything!"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Andy," Newt retorted, using my line earlier.

I huffed. "It is _not_ because I want to sleep in the same room with you."

"What made you think I meant that?" Newt replied.

Alby suddenly cleared his throat, breaking the banter between Newt and I. "You two seem to have gotten close," he remarked.

"Andy here likes me," Newt spoke up immediately, flinging an arm over my shoulder. I gasped inaudibly at his sudden action. "But she's too shy to admit it."

I tried to shrug Newt's hand off me in vain. Huffing, I blew my hair out of my face and grumbled, "Newt's delusional."

Alby gave Newt a stern look, to which he responded with a casual shrug. Shaking his head, Alby smiled slightly. "Whatever. You two go continue your love spat somewhere else," he said, making me frown. "Preferably, the greenie's next job tryout."

I groaned immediately as he said that. I almost forgot about job auditions.

"Right," Newt said, clasping his hands together eagerly. "Let's go, Andy. Your tryout today is rather…interesting," he grinned deviously, making me dubious. "It's all easy today, full with leisure. You'll enjoy it, I think."

The mischievous glint in his eyes did nothing to reassure me.

* * *

><p>Newt was apparently joking about his earlier comments when he left me at the Blood House. Before I could even refuse to tryout for a Slicer, Newt handed me over to Winston and fled—even after I told him to not leave me. The fact that he ran made me disgruntled.<p>

Winston was the Keeper of the Slicers and excluding his quiet, expressionless and creepy demeanor, he was relatively nice. Newt left me with him after the meeting with Gally and Winston's laidback self helped me feel not so awkward. Unlike Zart, he didn't brief me shortly about the job and left me alone to tryout. He took it upon himself to show me around the Blood House and explain what, where and how every job was done.

"This is where we keep the animals, as you know," Winston said, leaning on the stockade. "There are cows, chicken, some lambs and pigs…that's it. We have Michael—hey Michael!" he waved to a little boy inside the enclosure before continuing. "He takes care and watches over the animals…if it's sounds easy, it's not."

"Why?"

"One, we have quite an amount of animals to take care of. Two, they lay their klunk everywhere."

Reason number two made me scrunch my face in disgust. "Eww, okay. That's…not for me."

Winston released a small laugh and nodded. "Yeah, I don't think so," he then started walking towards the Blood House door. "Come on, I'll show you inside."

As I entered the Blood House reluctantly, the foul metallic smell of blood and flesh penetrated my smelling organ. The pungent small made me wrinkle my nose in disgust. I decided to scan the place to distract myself from the horrible smell.

A long, flat slab of wood was in front of me and I felt my stomach lurch as I studied it in detail. The wood was stained with red and smelled rotten as I neared it. Beside the wooden table were metal hooks that I assumed were used to hang fresh meat. On a tray by the table were sharp cutting tools—knives, scissors and multiple blades that made me shiver.

"This is where we slaughter the animals," he explained, gesturing to the meat hooks and a giant bloodstained cutting board. "We call it the Slaughterhouse."

I let out a groan. "You serious? This place is already called the _Blood House_, and now the Slaughterhouse?"

"Lots off things in the Glade are self-explanatory," he stated, a smile playing on his lips.

"No shit," I scoffed, agreeing with him.

Winston cleared his throat as he started sharpening a knife. "There are two types of slicers—meat slicers and slaughterers. Meat slicers just cut the raw meat from the hooks and send them off to the kitchen. Slaughterers slaughter the animal, skin them, clean them up and all that. Got it?"

I couldn't listen carefully with my mind still getting used to the smell and demeanor of the Slaughterhouse but nodded anyway. "Got it."

Suddenly, I heard a loud clang and the clucks of a hen. I turned my head to see a metal cage on the floor containing a vicious hen on the inside, struggling to escape. My eyes widened as I reckoned what it was going to be used for.

"Now," Winston exhaled, picking up a knife. I averted my gaze from the hen to him, feeling a sense of dread run through me. "It's time to slice."

Seeing Winston hold the knife up expressionlessly made me imagine countless scenes in movies where the psycho killer kills the girl. It would be so easy for him to kill me, skin me and give my meat to the cook so he can cook me. He could bury all my hair and clothes somewhere and label my meat as lamb meat or something. No one would notice my disappearance if he said that I just left and disappeared. Winston had been here longer; the Gladers were surely going to believe him.

"I'm not going to kill you, you know," Winston assured, laughing when he saw my fear-stricken face. "I'm just showing you how to slice meat."

_As if that's any better_, I thought but put on a smile to cover up my terror. "Sorry, I just…you looked…scary."

"It's okay. It happens most of the time when a greenie works for me," he brushed it off and smiled, making me feel guilty for thinking of him badly. "I'm going to show you how to slice now. Watch closely. It's not that hard, really."

With that, Winston put on a pair of clear gloves, turned to the wooden table and grabbed a fresh chuck of meat from a metal hook. I gulped when I saw him placing the thick slab of meat on the cutting board. He placed the knife on the red flesh and positioned it carefully. Without wasting time, he pierced the meat with the knife and started slicing it back and forth in a continuous rhythm. I clenched my eyes shut as I heard a _thunk_ as the knife hit the bottom of the board and the meat was now divided into two.

The juices and remaining blood from the meat oozed out as he pressed on both of them and started slicing them into smaller strips. I gazed at the meat being sliced easily by Winston and made up my mind.

I did not want to be a Slicer—not at all.

"See? Neat slices," Winston said and placed the knife down after the meat was cut into neat squares. "Wanna try?"

"No," was my immediate reaction. "What's…um…the other job?"

Winston flashed me a wicked smile before averting his gaze to the hen in the cage.

My eyes bulged and I instantly regretted asking that.

Opening the cage, Winston seized the hen's neck harshly. He roughly pulled it out of the metal cage and walked back over to the cutting board. I felt like running away as he slammed the hen down on the wood and grabbed a larger, sharper knife. The hen in his grip only clucked loudly and thrashed around violently.

"Before pulling out the feathers and skinning the bird, we have to slaughter it," Winston said, focusing on the flailing hen. My heart raced as he lifted his knife. In a low, chilling voice, he muttered, "Watch."

I decided at that moment that I _couldn't_ watch so I opened the door and ran away from the place just as Winston brought his knife down onto the chicken. The last thing I heard was the muted cluck of the hen as the knife embedded into the wooden board beneath it with a thunk.

* * *

><p>The Glade's Builders were strewn across the Girl's Homestead site. On the ground, sticks were laid out to mark the width of the base of the upcoming Homestead. Several Builders were sawing blocks of wood and passing it on to others who chopped it into thinner rectangles. A cement mixer was spinning and churning newly inserted cement powder, gravel and water into concrete.<p>

Gally was on the ground, with papers scattered to his left and long twigs being tied up to his right. In his hands were strands of thick ropes. He was tying the twigs together with the ropes, pulling tightly and firmly to keep them from falling apart. Occasionally, he would look back at the papers and change the position for the twigs to be tied.

"Hey."

Gally immediately stopped what he was doing and looked around, squinting his eyes for the voice. After a while, he shook his head and went back to tying the twigs, probably thinking it was just all in his head.

"Pst…! Hey!"

This time, Gally didn't stop what he was doing and continued on nonchalantly. His eyes however, averted from his work to secretly scrutinize his surroundings.

"Gally!"

The Keeper of the Builders frowned and straightened up to look around, head whipping from side to side as he scanned his surroundings for anything suspicious. The builders gazed at him quizzically but with a glare from the Keeper, they straightaway went back to their jobs.

I poked my head out of the pile of wood I was hiding behind and waved my hand at him. "Gally!" I whispered loudly. His head snapped over to me and his eyes widened. I continued waving and motioned for him to come closer. "Come here!"

Gally frowned in confusion and dropped his rope and twigs. Hesitantly, he stood up and walked over to me. Once in a while, he would look behind him before looking back at me suspiciously. That gesture made me roll my eyes. As he got closer, he crouched down to my height and observed me skeptically.

"Andrea?" he asked in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

I smiled back sheepishly and shrugged. "Hiding. Don't make it too obvious that you're talking to me. Oh, and it's just Andy."

"Why?" he asked after getting over the fact that I was there.

"Because Andrea's a mouthful, don't you think?"

Gally sighed and shook his head, looking slightly miffed. "No, I mean why are you _hiding_?"

I blinked, not knowing how I should explain that I ran away from Winston to save my innocent eyes from bloodshed. "Um…I'm not hiding."

"You just said you were hiding," he retorted, raising a curved eyebrow.

My eyes lit up at his curvy eyebrow quirking and I giggled. "Hah. Your eyebrow looks funny. I can do that too you know—look."

I quirked one eyebrow, grinning. When Gally didn't respond, I wriggled it up and down continuously to procrastinate. Gally crossed his arms and sat down on the grass, seeming tired from crouching down. He looked at me expectantly, his eyebrow still raised and face still curious.

"Ugh, fine," I muttered, stopping my eyebrow movement. "They'll take me back to Winston."

"What happened with Winston?" he asked suspiciously.

"He was about to slaughter a chicken…or hen, I don't know," I explained, only for him to give me a disbelieving look. "It was innocent! He was about to slaughter an innocent, harmless chicken!"

Gally snorted. "What, you're a vegetarian?"

"No," I replied haughtily, flicking my hair over my shoulder. "I just didn't want to see it choke on its own blood and dying."

Gally rolled his eyes and asked, "Why are you here then?"

"Like I told you—hiding," I replied and sighed defeatedly, leaning against the pile of thick wood. "This job thing isn't working out for me. Mind if I be a builder?"

As I studied the Builders earlier, I saw that they only assembled sticks and twigs together and sawed wood. Remembering Winston slicing the bloody meat, the thought of slicing wood wasn't that bad. There were many builders so I wouldn't have to do all the works. Maybe I could just do easy ones like tying things or watch the cement mixer.

"With those shucking hands?" Gally scoffs, looking as if he wanted to laugh.

I frowned and looked at my hands. They were small and thin, but I had long fingers.

"What about my hands? You guys just tie up twigs and stuff, right? How hard can that be?"

Immediately after I said that, Gally narrowed his eyes at me. For a moment, I thought I had offended him in some way. A few minutes after he stared me down, a flick switched on in his eyes as he suddenly smirked devilishly. I felt intimidated for some reason and my gut quickly alerted me that I just earned myself a death wish.

"Okay, greenie," he smirked challengingly. "Let's see what ya got."

* * *

><p>An hour later, I was sweating and cursing under my breath as I tried to construct a wooden birdhouse.<p>

Gally had told me that he would need to see me work before I could be a Builder so he gave me the easiest job a Builder could have—assembling. He stated that it used the least amount of physical strength unlike sawing and collecting wood from the forest or be in charge of managing the cement mixer. He had chopped some long, rectangular pieces of wood and provided me with some rope.

I had to admit that he chopped and sliced the wood perfectly—with minimal jagged corners and splinters.

"I hate building," I grumbled as I tried to get the long pieces of wood to stand up straight so I could tie them up nicely. Each thin slice of wood was supposed to be tied together to create a stable pole for the birdhouse to settle on top but in that moment, I was failing.

"Stop complaining," I heard an amused voice speak from behind me.

Gally was lounging against the stack of wood I had been hiding behind earlier and was commenting on everything I did since I started. He would randomly criticize my work whenever something looked like it was out of place and chastise me whenever I complained.

"How can you even do this?" I spoke up, ignoring him as I tried to tie two pieces of wood together, only to have them stand up crookedly and fall apart when I tried to tighten the ropes. "Ugh, look at that. I hate this. I'd rather go bathe in the dead chicken's blood."

Gally didn't respond. When I turned to make sure he was still around, he threw a small, short stick at my face, hitting my nose. He laughed as I cursed and rolled my eyes, rubbing the spot where the stick clashed.

"I hate this. So many twigs and splinters," I mumbled underneath my breath, my hands red from pulling on the ropes tightly. "How can you even do this?" I asked Gally, my voice louder. "I bet you have ugly hands. Rough, scratchy, _deformed_ hands…and fat, bruised, ugly fingers since I'm pretty sure you all must've accidently hammered yourselves at least once!"

The ridiculous silence emitting from Gally made me huff angrily. The rope in my hands finally tightened but as I erected the boards, it stood crooked. I cried out in exasperation. "Are you kidding me? Ugh!"

"It's been an hour, greenie. I should be checking on your creation by now but…" he opened one eye, peeking at the wood I had in my hands. "Seems like you don't have any."

"Oh, shut up," I glowered, my grip tightening on the wooden planks. "This is stupid. It's hopeless, troublesome and makes me sweat so much! I bet you all stink. Even the Runners smell better than you. You all reek of sweat and…cement…and smelly armpits!"

My rant continued as I tried yet again to tie the wooden staves together. Just like my previous efforts; it was to no avail. I wrapped my hands around the four narrow planks and hugged it tightly, attempting to tie it as it stood stably. Unfortunately, just as the rope wrapped and knotted around the planks, it loosened and made the planks fall apart on top of me.

"Oh my god…th-this…_monster _won't stay still!"

Gally snorted. "It's a plank."

"It's a _monster plank_!" I retorted Gally's comment heatedly, vigorously throwing the rope to the ground. "I give up. Make this birdhouse yourself."

"That? A birdhouse?" Gally laughed out mockingly. "Looks more like a pile of klunk."

I frowned and felt my face getting hot, not appreciating Gally's derision. "Shut up. I tried my best."

Just after I said that, I threw a broken piece of wood at Gally, barely missing his forehead. His eyes followed the tiny airborne wood splinter and scoffed as it landed on the grass soundlessly.

"You can't even throw properly," Gally mused.

Before I could retort or come up with a witty remark, I heard someone calling my name. I heard the voice from my left and averted my gaze to see Newt. He was jogging over to Gally and I, a relieved expression on his face. I groaned inwardly, not thoroughly excited with him seeing me hopelessly trying to build something—_anything_, for that matter.

"Andy," Newt breathed out, catching his breath slightly as he stopped in front of Gally and I. "There you are. Winston was wandering where you went off to," he paused for a moment, examining my exhausted figure on the ground and a perfectly healthy Gally leaning casually against a stack of wood. His eyebrows scrunched in suspicion. "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing-"

"Building," Gally answered quickly, smiling smugly as he sat up straightly.

Newt's eye widened in visible surprise and he raised his eyebrows at me. "Building?"

I shot a deathly glare at Gally and regarded my abruptly interesting shoes, too embarrassed to look at Newt. "I didn't enjoy it."

"Huh, seems like you know your way to job tryouts," Newt commented, smiling slightly as his eyes trailed over to the number of wooden planks and long ropes scattered across the grass. He turned to Gally and asked, "How is she, Gally?"

"Just like her masterpiece," the Keeper answered, jerking his head towards the poor creation I had put together. "Horrendous."

I felt myself grow defensive and shot a biting remark at him, "Oh, that's a big word for you."

"And that's a sad excuse of a towel hook," he replied coolly.

"It is _not_ a _towel hook_," I grumbled, standing up. "It's a birdhouse. Birdhouse!"

When he heard me say that, Newt laughed. He laughed a loud, silly, lighthearted laugh that was easily likable by those who hear. I couldn't help but smile but quickly dropped it after realizing that he was laughing at _me_. Crossing my arms, I waited for him to finish his laugh-fest patiently.

"You done?" I asked sarcastically when his laughter subsided.

"You call that a birdhouse?" he released another short chortle. "You're bloody bad at this."

I scowled, glaring at both of the amused boys.

"Come on, we still have time for the Med-jacks," Newt said, looking at the darkening sky. "Clint should be able to-"

"No!" I snapped instantly, shaking my head and standing up. "I've had enough for today. Winston took the life of a harmless chicken because of _me,_ and that slinthead over there made my hands kill themselves. I'm done. I'm going to go take a nice, long shower and hopefully see you boys _tomorrow_."

Without hearing another word from any of them, I stomped off, heading to the showers. My hand was stinging from the scrapes I obtained from the splinters in the wood but I shrugged it off, repressing it until I could soothe it with some water.

Looked like both Slicing and Building didn't work out for me.

* * *

><p>"She called me a slinthead," Gally stated, frowning. "She's really bad-tempered, isn't she?"<p>

"Mhmm," Newt nodded affirmatively. "I was about to say that Clint could take care of her scratches and scrapes…" he trailed off, looking at Andrea's figure walking off in the distance.

Gally snorted, leaning back against the stack of wood. "She's just weird."

* * *

><p>That night—after a long, freshening shower—I decided that it was time for me to stop moping around in Newt's room and possibly get some food to eat at the dining area. This time, my stomach was in full agreement. The hard work I did for Gally that evening was harsh and exhausting. Right after leaving his building site, I immediately felt hungry and had to hold it in while I washed up.<p>

The sky was already dark when I left the Homestead. A few dim fires lit up the Glade, as did the cable of lights hanging from several poles to make paths to places. However, the dark surroundings of the Glade wasn't spooky or frightening, thanks to the huge amount of Gladers bustling here and there.

I made my way to the dining area, right beside the Kitchen where the cook handed out our food. Maybe it was my hunger taking over my instincts, because my feet seemed to remember exactly where to go.

When I arrived at the dining area, I noticed the short queue in front of the food table and looked around carefully to search for Gally. Fortunately, he was nowhere to be seen. Taking in a deep breath, I walked over to the queue and lined up behind the boys.

A few boys passed by me, holding their bowls of food. They halted and gave me a friendly wave. For a moment, I was stunned since no one had actually been friendly to me since I woke up in the Box—except for Newt, Chuck and maybe Winston—but it felt nice. Smiling, I waved back at them. After that, more boys started smiling, waving or greeting me when they saw me.

I had to say, it was a great feeling.

The more the Gladers acting kind and pleasant to me, the more I felt accepted and not like an outsider.

The line quickly evaporated as everyone got their food and it was finally me left standing in front of the table. The same dark-skinned boy from my first day stood behind the stand, a smile playing on his lips when he saw me.

"Finally get to see you again, girly," he said, grabbing a bowl of stew from his side. "Thought you were dead. Not eatin' and all."

I smiled sheepishly, taking the bowl from him. "I was just getting used to everything," I said. "But I guess my hunger's too strong to ignore."

"The name's Frypan," the cook held his hand out for me to shake. Hesitantly, I took it. "I heard you're Newt's new roommate?"

"Oh…I'm guessing the whole Glade knows?" I asked, scratching the back of my ears.

"Don't let 'em fool ya," Frypan said, jerking his head towards the dining area where all of the boys were. "Those shucks may look like dudes but they still gossip like little girls."

I nodded, glancing cautiously at the area where everyone was eating. I briefly wondered what else they gossiped about.

"Know what? Wait here," Frypan ordered and without wasting time, walked back into his kitchen. I frowned in confusion but stayed where I was supposed to, waiting. After a few long minutes, Frypan came out, holding a plate of two folded waffles. "Here, a lil' gift for the newbie."

My mouth hung open as he set the plate of waffles down. "Seriously? You can make waffles here?"

"Yup. Don't do it often though, since its too much work and a waste of batter," he explained. "Go on, take it. Stuff yourself full for tonight, uh, shank."

I looked at the delicious smelling waffles and smiled at Frypan. "Thank you. I can't wait to taste them."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm over that polite klunk. Go on eat."

With one last smile to Frypan, I grabbed both the bowl and the plate of waffles in each hand and walked towards the dining area.

Just like my first day, it was crowded and everyone seemed to have friends to sit with but me. I thought of finding Newt, but then cringed at the thought of him pushing me away to sit with his group of boys. Then, I remembered Chuck and smiled. My eyes scanned the area, searching for the little, pudgy boy with curly brown hair. My eyes squinted as I focused on a little boy at a table, not alone, but also not joining in whatever the others were talking about.

In fact, it looked like Chuck was purposely being left out by the group of boys at the table.

Exhaling determinately, I started to walk over to Chuck to sit with him, despite the other boys.

On my way though, a familiar teasing voice spoke, making me halt. "Well, well. Look who decided to come out of the room."

I looked to my right to see Newt at a table, grinning widely. To his left were Alby and Minho and opposite him were Zart and a boy I didn't recognize. I gazed at all of them one by one nervously. When my eyes landed on Minho, I immediately looked away, still embarrassed about last night's event.

"Oh, hi," I greeted, barely audible because of the raucous chatter all around the place. "I was hungry."

Newt looked to the bowl in my hands to the plate of waffles in the other before smirking. "No kidding."

"Well, I couldn't stay cooped up there without eating, can I?" I asked Newt pointedly. "I tried that yesterday."

"True," he nodded, gulping down some water from his cup. After finishing, he asked, "Why don't you sit here with us?"

My eyes warily observed the table—it was occupied by five boys. I only knew two if Alby counted as an acquaintance. I didn't know if I could say I knew Minho since we've only met two times, and one when I pranked him with Chuck. For the two extra boys, I didn't even know them properly.

"S'okay," I said, shaking my head. "I'm actually gonna go sit with Chuck."

"Chuck?" the boy I didn't recognize suddenly spoke in disgust. "The kid Slopper?"

My eyes narrowed at his condescending tone. "Yes," I confirmed steely. "The _kid_."

Newt saw me glaring at the boy and quickly intervened. "That's Clint, Keeper of the Med-jacks. Excuse him, he's a rightful shuck." I sighed, not really caring. Before I could walk away to Chuck's table, Newt asked, "Why don't you bring Chucky over here?"

"You want Chuck…here?" I repeated his question, glancing at the table with my eyebrows raised.

"Sure, why not? Clint's finished eating anyways," he looked at Clint's empty bowl before smiling back at me. "Yeah, go on. Bring him over."

I looked at Newt weirdly before slowly nodding. I smiled timidly at Zart, who was beside me, and the others as I placed my bowl and plate down. Turning to Newt, I narrowed my eyes warningly.

"Don't touch my waffles."

Newt snorted in response. "I'll try not to."

I made my way to where Chuck was sitting and eating his food silently. The three boys at the opposite end of the table laughed merrily, ignoring Chuck's presence completely. I frowned, wondering why no one wanted to befriend the cute, happy, little boy.

"Hey, Chuck," I greeted happily as I tapped his shoulder, ignoring the stares of the other boys at the table.

Chuck's gloomy face instantly lit up when he saw me. "Andy! Hi!"

"You're not finished eating, are you?" I asked, glancing down at his bowl.

"No," Chuck shook his head. "Not yet. Why?"

"Because we're sitting somewhere else," I revealed, bouncing lightly on my feet. "Come on, grab your bowl. Follow me."

Chuck swiftly stood up and held both his bowl and a cup of water in both hands respectively. Smiling, I turned back to lead the way to Newt's table. As we got closer, Chuck gasped.

"We're sitting with the Keepers?" he squealed, jumping up and down enthusiastically. "And leader!"

I laughed at Chuck's excitement. "Yeah."

We reached the table and I saw that both Clint and Zart were already gone. I felt a teensy bit guilty at them leaving but then remembered that I wasn't really close to Zart and that Clint badmouthed Chuck before. I let Chuck slide onto the empty bench first before sitting down myself, facing Newt. He smiled at me before looking at Chuck.

"Hullo, Chuck," Newt addressed, smiling.

Chuck beamed at the greet he received. "Hey!" he replied excitedly, then looked over at Minho and Alby. "Hi Minho, Alby."

Minho managed a small nod at the boy while Alby asked, "How are ya, Chuck?"

"Great. Everything's great," Chuck replied, grinning. "Work's going smoothly. I'm not klunking my pants anymore."

I smiled and took a bite of the chunky stew Frypan cooked as Chuck continued chattering. His food lay forgotten as he talked and talked, finally glad that someone was listening to him. Minho and Alby looked annoyed and Newt shot me a look, one that said 'seriously?' I suppressed a laugh and continued eating my stew.

I felt eyes on me as I ate and snapped my head up to see Minho observing me closely. It made me feel uncomfortable and I slowly lowered my head, wishing I could hide by dunking it into the bowl. When I gathered the courage to look back up at him, he would smirk slightly or grin. It went on for a long time before Newt caught what was going on.

"What's going on with you two?" Newt asked, glancing back and forth between Minho and me suspiciously.

Alarmed, I stiffened. I secretly hoped Minho wouldn't tell him the events of the night before—it was embarrassing. Before I could make something up though, the Keeper spoke.

"Didn't she tell you?" Minho asked, his lips curling into a smirk. "The greenie pranked me last night."

My face turned red as mortification washed over me. Newt's incredulous gaze landed on me. "You pranked _Minho_?"

"I didn't know it was him," I said immediately, trying to defend myself. To lift the attention off me, I added, "It was all Chuck's fault."

"Why me?" the said boy inquired confusedly, munching on his food.

"It was your _brilliant_ plan," I replied mockingly. "I just followed. Besides, you didn't even tell me anything before pushing me into the whole thing."

"Oh yeah…" Chuck trailed off, smiling sheepishly. "But you had fun, though."

I laughed. "Yeah, I had fun, except for the aftermath," I gave a pointed look at Minho, who smirked and took a gulp of his water.

Newt looked between us curiously but didn't ask any further questions. He started conversing with Alby while I finished up my stew. Chuck would come up with a random topic once in a while and we would talk while eating. Minho also joined in the conversation. Despite his vague and odd self last night, he was actually fun to talk to. He made sarcastic remarks frequently and liked to scoff but overall, he was an extremely humorous person—quite entertaining too.

When I was almost finished with my stew, I saw a hand creeping to my plate of waffles from the corner of my eyes. "What do you think you're doing?" I asked Minho, who froze his hand.

"Uh…"

"Those are _my _waffles," I said, narrowing my eyes.

Minho suddenly grinned and said, "Wow, you're really perceptive, aren't you? Do you always point out the obvious?"

It took me a moment to recall where I heard that line. "Hey, I said that," I smiled, remembering me saying it to him on my first day. His hand slowly crept forward to the plate and my smile flattened. "Nu uh. Those are still _mine_."

"But sharing is caring!" Minho moaned, looking dejected when I slid the plate of waffles closer to myself.

"Good thing I don't care about you then," I retorted, taking a huge bite out of one waffle.

I heard Newt and even Alby snicker as Minho glared at me. I chewed on the waffles slowly, purposely teasing him. Smiling innocently, I took another bite of the waffles. After a few minutes, Minho's glare broke into a smile.

"Are those waffles?" Chuck asked, eyeing the stack eagerly. I nodded in a response. He smiled hopefully. "Can I have some?"

"Su-"

"No," Newt answered sharply before I could. "Frypan made those for the new greenie—_her_. Not you."

"But I didn't get any when I was a greenie," Chuck said, confused.

"Too bad. Guess Frypan didn't like you."

Chuck's smile faded at Newt's comment. I sent a dirty look at him right away for upsetting my first friend. I then tore the second waffle in half and placed it in front of Chuck's face. His glum expression turned into a happy one as he took the waffle from my hands and stuffed it into his mouth.

"Thanks, Andy," Chuck said through his full mouth, giving me a grin.

I grinned back at Chuck and turned to Newt, sending him a heated glare. Newt lifted his hands in defense, shrugging slightly. He mouthed an oblivious 'what?' at me and I rolled my eyes.

"Wait, so Chuck gets waffles and I don't?" Minho asked, frowning.

I let out an exasperated sigh and flung the other half of the waffle to him. He didn't seem to expect that, and it was reflected in the sudden alarm in his eyes as he scrambled to catch it. He caught it just as it was about to pass his head and exhaled in relief.

Minho then narrowed his eyes at me. "It's not good to throw your food."

"You caught it didn't you?" I shrugged indifferently.

Minho rolled his eyes, muttering a 'yeah,' before munching on the waffle. He sighed in satisfaction as the delicious taste of syrup and crisp battered cake streamed down his throat.

"Thanks," Minho said, smiling, and proceeded to take another bite.

Newt looked at the waffle in Chuck and Minho's hands. He turned to me optimistically and asked, "What about me?"

I looked down at my plate, seeing the small, final piece of waffle. I bit my lips, wondering if I should give it to Newt. My stomach still wanted it though, and Newt was rude to Chuck just now, so I sighed and picked it up.

"Sorry, Newt," I said apologetically and stuffed the last of it in my mouth. "You're too late."

Minho and Chuck laughed at Newt's somber face, as did I. Alby also cracked a smile and patted his friend on his back. I smiled ruefully, hoping he wasn't too begrudged about it. I nudged Newt's leg under the table when he looked away, frowning. I kept nudging until he faced me. The corner of his lips were curved, so I knew he wasn't actually mad.

"Just you wait. One day, you'll be asking _me_ for something, and I won't give it to you," Newt said playfully.

I just smiled.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**I know that book-Gally and movie-Gally are really different, so since I like Will Poulter's portrayal of Gally, I'll be picturing him as the Gally here. And also, the first few chapters will be about Andrea and her life in the Glade since the story is about her…Thomas and Teresa will come a bit later. Next chapter will have more Minho, I promise. :)**

**Replies to Reviews:**

**ptl4ever419: Thank you! It's nice to know you love it! Hope you continue that. :) **

**FrenchTifa: Thank you for the review! You're so kind. It's nice to know that you think I write well. It means a lot. Oh, and I'll try continuing with long chapters! Hope you liked this one! :)**

**Lottielue1: Thanks for reviewing! Gally is going to be…a bit of both I guess. He won't be as bad as he was in the books because that was just from Thomas's point of view and Gally just hated him because he was suspicious. He'll be nicer in the beginning but back to the Gally we know when Thomas arrives.**

**Maddie: Thank you! It's relieving to know that you like the long chapters. I always try to shorten but…can't. I don't know. :)**

**TheCoconutSlinky: Sorry, I didn't realize that! I literally just took that out of the book where Thomas said there were _at least _fifty boys. Don't worry, I'll take care of that…I'll just make something up later on. Thanks for pointing that out though. :)**

**IvyMoore: Thanks for the review! Team Newt? I'm leaning a bit towards them too. How about you come up with a ship name for them? If you want…it's okay if you don't. I'm being totally pushy. Sorry…but seriously though, if you would. :)**

**Sam0728: Thanks for reviewing! She just met Gally there! She will run…not as a runner but there will be…something. Yeah, I'm planning fun times with her and Minho.**

** : Thanks for telling me! I'll make sure to do something with those two. **

**kimzie-kitty: Thank you for the review! First review for chapter 3! It made me so excited. :)**

**Guest: Thanks for the review!**

**And like always, thanks for reading! :)**


	5. The Job & Pink Shoes

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Maze Runner**

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><p><span>The Girl In The Glade<span>

Chapter 5: The Job and Pink Shoes

When I woke up the next day, Newt was nowhere to be seen. Taking his absence for fortune, I left to go shower. Surprisingly, most of the Gladers were still in bed. I concluded that I woke up early—even the Maze Doors weren't open yet. After freshening up and changing into my newly washed, clean clothes, I journeyed to the dining area for breakfast.

Frypan was a little surprised to see me up so early. That morning, he put together simple chicken bread sandwiches with optional scrambled eggs for everyone. I was glad that I was over all the emotional klunk I had been through before because Frypan was a great cook and it would've be a disgrace for me to miss out on his food.

Since it was still quite early, many tables were empty. Several Runners were having light breakfasts and some were packing their lunches in their tiny backpacks. From a distance, I saw Newt, Alby, Minho and Winston at a table. I walked over to them, not wanting to sit alone.

"Hi, guys," I greeted as I sat down next to Minho. It was the only open spot.

"Well, aren't you up early" Newt remarked, sending me a grin.

"Yeah," I mumbled, taking a bite of my sandwich. "I'm really proud."

I ate while the four boys talked about insignificant boy stuff. Being the only girl, I felt awkward when they all laughed out loud at a joke made by another. They all looked so comfortable with each other, making flippant comments and often flicking breadcrumbs at each other—even the curt Alby and creepy Winston.

I couldn't help but smile at the brotherhood they all shared in the Glade.

"So what are you gonna do today, girly?" Minho asked, unzipping his backpack to ram a clear bag of food in there.

"She's continuing with the Keepers," Newt answered for me before I could even think. I sighed irritably. He did the same thing to Chuck yesterday and it annoyed me.

"I can answer my own questions, Newt," I said, shaking my head. "Seriously."

Newt smirked, pausing when he lifted his sandwich. "Really? What was your brilliant answer to his question, then?"

"That I didn't know," I retorted, not embarrassed in the slightest bit. Perhaps it was due to me waking up early.

Minho chuckled as he finished his glass of water and zipped up his backpack. He abruptly stood up, taking his plate and cup with him before walking off. With him gone, the person next to me was now Winston. The Keeper of the Slicers gave me a friendly smile. I was reluctant in responding due to the shame of running away from him the day before.

"Hey, Winston," I gathered the courage to say an apology. "Um…sorry about…running away yesterday. It was rude of me."

Winston waved his hands in dismissal. "S'okay. Not your fault. I was about to murder a shuck hen for god's sake. In front of a girl."

I smiled gratefully at him, and said, "Thanks. Seriously though, it wasn't you. It was the chicken."

"Good to know," he replied and looked at the half-finished sandwich on my plate. He then suddenly smiled, the wicked glint I saw before back in eyes. "Speaking of chickens…last night wasn't the last time you saw that specific one."

I raised my eyebrows questioningly, not understanding him. Winston averted his gaze to the sandwich pointedly and I stopped chewing. "Wait…you mean, _this _is the chicken you killed yesterday?"

"Yup," Winston nodded, laughing. "Glad to see it didn't go to waste."

My eyes flickered back to the sandwich in my hands and I started chewing again, slower this time. The sandwich was good and I wasn't about to become a vegetarian because I almost saw a chicken die. I smiled back at Winston nervously, not comfortable with his disturbing sense of humor.

"Here you go, greenie," a cup filled with water was suddenly placed in front of me. I blinked, shocked at the sudden appearance. My eyes trailed the hand from the cup to its owner—it was Minho. He grinned and said, "Thought you might need something to drink."

I smiled at his thoughtfulness and brought the cup closer to me. "Thanks, Minho. That's really nice of you."

"Yeah," Newt scoffed suddenly, staring hardly at Minho for some reason. "_Bloody_ _nice_ of you," he spoke sarcastically, making me quirk an eyebrow puzzlingly.

Minho just rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm off now," he said, strapping his backpack on. He gave me a smile and a little boyish nod. "See you when I get back, greenie."

"Andy," was my automatic response.

Minho scrunched his brows quizzically. "Huh?"

"My name is Andy," I said, flashing him a smile. "Not _greenie_."

He nodded. "Whatever you say, _greenie_," Minho replied, smirking.

"Andy!" I said again, frowning when he called me greenie.

"Right, right…_Andy_," Minho said slowly, amused. Then, he turned to run to the walls. He didn't forget to turn around at the last minute and shout, "See ya, greenie!"

I rolled my eyes, albeit the smile on my smile started spreading. My eyes met Newt, who looked at me with a rare unreadable face. It contrasted immensely against his usual cheery one. My eyebrow lifted up in curiosity at the sudden change.

"Newt?" I asked, snapping my fingers in his face when he didn't answer.

He seemed to snap out of his stony glare and blinked. "Oh, sorry. What?"

"I didn't ask you anything," I retorted, cracking an amused smile. "Which planet did you journey off to?"

Newt shook his head, looking down at his plate. "No. I was just, uh, thinking."

"Okay…" I mumbled, not fully convinced. I kept my curious gaze on him for a while before shrugging it off. I've only been here for three days and I didn't know much.

Maybe this was usual for Newt…whatever it was that was bugging him.

My curiosity spiked even further when he didn't talk to me for the rest of breakfast but I refrained from asking. Maybe he had some personal issues that were puzzling him before I arrived. I also did not want to seem nosey. He had already put up with my troubling attitude from the first day I arrived. I should probably stay out of his business.

Newt was the closest friend I had in the Glade—I didn't want to lose him.

* * *

><p>I had already failed in trying out for Track-hoes, Slicers and Builders but according to Newt, there were more to go. He warned that if I didn't land a suitable job after I've completed every tryout, I would have no choice but to be a Slopper. Hearing that made me anxious. I didn't want to be a Slopper.<p>

No offense to Chuck, but I didn't want to wash clothes and clean toilets. If it were my own possessions, sure, but I didn't want to do unwanted chores for every Glader.

So Newt brought me to the Baggers—creepy, mysterious individuals that scout the Glade for any deaths or crime. They always carry notepads and pencils to jot things down—I wasn't sure _what_ they wrote but they do write something in it. If it were possible, these boys were even scarier than Winston.

Thankfully, the Keeper of the Baggers wasn't generally excited when it was time for me to tryout.

"Ya really want to try the girl out here?" the boy said, giving Newt a dubious look.

"It's the rules, Bill. She has to try with every Keeper until one sticks to her. So far, none have," Newt answered.

"Why don't ya just send her to the kitchen to cook? A buggin' med-jack, maybe? Or even go gardening? Has she tried cleaning up yet?"

My eyes narrowed at his offensive question. "Oh yeah, just because I'm a girl, I must _love_ to do _girly _jobs like cooking…and watering the plants…and cleaning," I snapped sarcastically. "Do any of you need a makeover? I'd be happy to braid your hair."

Newt gave me a stern look but the corner of his mouth curved slightly. I mouthed a 'what?' back at him, crossing my arms. He turned back to Bill and sighed. "Just do it, Bill. If she bloody fails, she fails. That's it."

Bill rolled his eyes and sighed grumpily. "Fine. I doubt she'll make it though."

Newt didn't reply and turned back to me. "Okay, Andy. This is Bill, the Keeper of the Baggers. I'm leaving you with him."

Even if I didn't really like the idea of Newt leaving me with the obnoxious Keeper, I nodded. "Okay."

"Good. I'll come pick you up later," Newt said, smiling. "Good luck."

I watched him run off towards the Homestead, giving me a wave. When he was already far, I bit my lips and turned to look at Bill. He was awfully short compared to the other Keepers. He was even shorter than me. He was surprisingly stocky though, with muscles bulging out of his arms whenever he crossed his them.

I unconsciously bounced on my feet, feeling nervous. Bill looked at me, not pleasingly, and sighed. "Let's get this over with," he said and walked to one of the Maze Doors.

While walking, I decided to ask, "So what do Baggers do?"

"Baggers are like cops. They keep the law enforced, guard the buggin' walls, and take care of dead bodies," explained Bill. A chill went through my spine when he said _dead bodies_. "But not much happens in the Glade so we really just do nothing except count live Gladers and dead Gladers."

I nodded uncertainly, not really finding the whole _counting live and dead Gladers _to be exciting.

When we reached the Maze Door, Bill nodded to two Baggers that were guarding the entrance…or exit. He turned to me with a bored face and gestured to the Door. "This is the shuck Door, as you should know. Two Baggers stand by each of the Doors all day, keeping any klunk-head Glader from leavin'. It's not hard, but very, very boring. Sitting out here with the heat and all? I don't think it's for ya, greenie."

Silently, I agreed with him. I did not want to stand by the Doors the whole day from morning until sundown. Besides, no Glader is stupid enough to run out there so I'll literally be hurting my legs for nothing. Adding up the heat and sweat I would have to endure, I concluded that guarding the Doors were not for me.

"Let's go," Bill said again and started walking off in the direction of the Kitchens. "This is the last thing."

_Already? _I wanted to ask, but refrained from it. Instead, I asked, "You said you guys keep track of Gladers?"

"Yeah."

"How? Isn't there like fifty Gladers? How do you keep track of all of them?"

"Fifty Gladers?" Bill scoffed obnoxiously. "Do the maths, newbie. How could there be fifty Gladers when it's only been three years."

I frowned, remembering Newt say that there were about fifty Gladers on my first day. Did he lie or something? Did he purposely want to make me anxious? I silently counted in my head. Twelve times three was only thirty-six. Even if I came at the end of the year and it was nearing four years, only forty-eight Gladers could be present.

"Then how _many _Gladers are there?" I asked.

"Thirty-nine, specifically."

"Thirty-nine?" I gasped in shock. "So it's been three months into the fourth year then?" I questioned again after thinking.

"Nope. Actually, it hasn't even been three years," Bill answered with a shake of his head, making me frown in perplexity. "It's only been two years, eleven months and four days, to be exact. Congratulations, you're the last greenbean for this year."

I blinked at the new information I received. There weren't _fifty _Gladers—there were only thirty-nine. It was so much more minimal compared to fifty. I looked around the Glade and saw the Gladers doing their jobs. Thinking about it, there weren't really much around. I quickly calculated the years and frowned.

"Then there should be only thirty-six Gladers," I said after much thinking. "Why are there thirty-nine?"

"Did no one tell ya?" Bill asked, raising an eyebrow.

I shook my head negatively. "No."

"There were ten Gladers that were sent up here on the first day," he explained. "I know what you're thinking, there should be forty-six of us right now. Well, short story, the extra seven of them died."

"Oh," I breathed out after a while. His swift and straightforward answers made me turn to look at him skeptically. "You're really…informative, aren't you?"

Bill shrugged. "I'm the Keeper of the Baggers. I know more about the Gladers than anyone else."

Finally, we stopped in front of a small, shabby hut. It was so small that I didn't even realize it existed in the Glade. It was located behind the kitchen and was narrowly cramped between it and tree thickets. The ropes and wood on the hut looked already deteriorated and old. I rubbed my eyes, wondering if the hut was actually real.

It was.

"This is the Baggers Room…and Builders."

"Builders?"

"Gally needed a place to stash his designs."

I nodded, walking forward to examine the hut. Unfortunately, before I could approach it, Bill swung his arm out and pushed me back—quite harshly too. I gasped, stumbling on my feet but regaining my composure quickly. I sent an icy glare at him but Bill only rolled his eyes.

"This place is restricted," he said seriously. "Only Keeper of the Baggers and Builders are allowed in."

"That's only you and Gally," I retorted confusedly.

Bill laughed a harsh, derisive laugh. "Look at the place. Ya think it can fit even one person with papers stacked up and flying everywhere?"

"Um…no," I answered, looking at him cautiously.

"Exactly."

Bill started walking to the poor looking hut. He opened the door rather harshly and stepped inside. It made a squeaky noise and wavered, making me worried that it was about to collapse. From the outside, I caught messy stacks of papers inside and…discarded clothing? I raised my eyebrows curiously and took a step nearer. Bill turned to me and pulled the door close just enough to block me from seeing the inside.

"Okay, let's be honest. You don't want to work as a Bagger, do ya?"

I frowned at his straightforward question but answered nontheless. "No, not really."

"Good," said Bill, nodding curtly. "Tell Newt you failed."

_Slam. _

He shut the door in my face. He actually _slammed_ it powerfully that I felt air puff onto my face from the force. I blinked unintelligently outside of the hut, contemplating on whether Bill was being serious or just bluffing around. After a few minutes passed, I realized that he was serious.

"Well that was just _polite_," I rolled my eyes and turned to walk away.

Even without trying out, I already failed as a Bagger. It was probably a good thing since I really didn't want to deal with dead bodies—no matter how rare it happened.

* * *

><p>I thought of going to find Newt and tell him that I failed, but then he would probably make me spend the day with another Keeper, so I went off to wander in the Deadheads. I walked over the thick grass and twigs on the ground, occasionally kicking some stones or broken twigs. The forest was empty—since most of the Gladers were working—and it created a peaceful and tranquil ambience. I embraced the serenity I felt, since it was so hard to obtain in the Glade.<p>

I walked down a small hill, carefully avoiding any rocks or ensnaring twigs so I wouldn't stumble and fall. After a while, I was back again on the flat ground. All of a sudden, I heard the noise of water rushing. I strained to hear and slowly walked to the direction of where the water was coming from.

After a while, I stumbled into a clearing where there was a small stream of water flowing. Little kids about the age of twelve to fourteen were by the bank, sitting on rocks and washing clothes. I walked closer to the kids, moving gradually to avoid any mishaps.

I saw a familiar chubby boy sitting on one of the rocks, scrubbing the shirt in his hands. Ignoring the others, I stalked closer to him.

"Chuck?"

The chubby boy turned his head swiftly. His eyes widened when he saw me, and the shirt fell out of his hands to the rock below. I smiled, seeing that it was Chuck and not some strange lookalike.

"Andy?" he said, blinking his eyes. "Why are you here?"

"I finished trying out," I answered.

His eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "Already?"

"That's exactly what I thought," I replied, laughing breathily and taking a seat near him on a higher rock. "So you're washing clothes," I stated, gazing at the basin filled with clothing to his side. "Is it fun?"

Chuck snorted. "Not really. Even the bathrooms are easier to clean. At least the Gladers know how to flush their klunk."

I smiled. "Want me to help?"

"H-help?" he repeated, looking at me incredulously. "You want to help…wash clothes?"

"Yeah. It-" _can't be that hard_, was what I wanted to say, but then I remembered what happened the last time I did. "Um…you can show me?"

Chuck's disbelieving gaze transformed into a beam. "Okay! Here," he said, handing me a piece of wet clothing. I unfolded it, spreading it out in front of me to see that it was a shirt. "Just dip into the water, then put some soap on it, and scrub," Chuck did what he instructed me to do respectively as I watched. After scrubbing, he dipped it once again into the water. "There. Then you just squeeze the water out and put it with the other clean ones."

I nodded and started doing what he did. I dipped the shirt I was holding into the water, took it out, and put some detergent on it. I scrubbed the shirt together tentatively, glancing at Chuck to see if I was doing it right. He just smiled and held a thumbs-up. I dipped it back into the river once it was already bubbled over with soap. I rinsed it and squeezed the excess water out of it.

"Like that?" I asked Chuck."

"Yup. It's easy," he replied and scrunched his eyebrows. "At the cost of having wrinkly fingers though…"

I involuntarily looked at my fingers and frowned. Chuck laughed and went back to washing clothes. I did the same. The Gladers' shirts emitted a repulsive smell and were covered in dirt, so I was hesitant in continuing, but for the sake of Chuck and not wanting to try out another job, I did.

Maybe I just took the bait for Slopper tryouts.

After a few minutes of _slopping_ with Chuck, I felt some water splash onto my face. I gasped, jumping at the feeling of cold water. I heard someone laugh and I looked down to see Chuck holding a piece of drenched clothing over his shoulder. He sheepishly squeezed the water out.

"Sorry," he said, suppressing his laugh. "Didn't mean that."

I blinked, wiping the water away from my face. My lips slowly formed a grin and I swiped the water with the shirt in my hands in the direction of Chuck. He spluttered as the water hit him full force.

"Oops," I said, smiling sweetly. "I didn't mean that either."

Chuck smiled mischievously. I didn't know how it exactly evolved, but a few minutes later, we were both drenched in water. The shirts were used as weapons to strike each other with water and the detergent was extra ammo for whoever was lucky. Our gleeful laughter was the only thing that could be heard throughout the forest.

"Okay, enough, Chuck!" I laughed out, wiping the wet hair away from my eyes. "Seriously!" I added, still laughing, when Chuck continued to splash me.

The water stopped hitting me and I looked at a cackling Chuck, who was clutching his stomach. His eyes were shut and I grinned deviously. Slowly stalking forward, I pushed Chuck into the river. He cried as he fell back into the cold water and I laughed out loud. He coughed and spluttered as he sat up in the shallow water, his face surprised.

I roared with hearty laughter, bouncing lightly on my feet. "I am…victorious!"

Both of us were drenched from head to toe, and the dirty clothes were forgotten. Chuck's priceless face turned into a smile as he laughed along heartily.

* * *

><p>After finishing up the other clothes after the water fight with Chuck, I left to go get some food. Chuck said he would catch up with me later after he hung up all the clothes to dry.<p>

I smelled a mouthwatering aroma coming from the kitchen and quickly made my way to it. I poked my head through the kitchen window and saw Frypan cleaning up some pots and pans inside. I looked around to see a tray of fried chicken, some gravy and some noodles. Licking my lips unconsciously, I sighed.

"Excuse me," I heard a voice clear their throat. "What do you think you're doing?"

I slowly lifted my head to see Frypan towering over the window, hands on his hips. He raised his eyebrows when I didn't answer.

"Oh, hey, Frypan," I said nervously. "Um…I was just…hungry."

"Hungry?" Frypan scoffed. "Then you'll have to wait for lunch."

I frowned, pouting slightly. "But lunch isn't for another _hour_…!" I moaned out agonizingly.

"Tough. You'll just have to wait," he replied, and then frowned as he took in my appearance. "And why in the shuckin' world are you drenched?"

"I was in a war involving water," I replied simply. I looked in his kitchen at the food tray. "…Are you _sure_ you can't give me something to eat?"

"Nu uh," he said, shaking his head. "Those are strictly for lunch."

My stomach rumbled and I desperately choked out, "Then can't you make me something else?"

"I just finished cooking for the whole Glade," Frypan spoke sternly. "I ain't got no time to make ya somethin'."

"But I'm _soooo_ hungry," I said, giving him a sad look. "Come on, Frypan. Not even for the only girl in the Glade?"

I've never used the fact that I was the only girl as any excuse in the Glade, but I was desperate for food. My stomach was rumbling and yearning for something to eat. I pouted and gave Frypan a look of despair. "Please…?"

He shook his head. "Sorry, shank. No can do."

"Please? Just one chicken, one _anything_?" I pleaded.

Frypan scrutinized me for a moment and sighed. "I'm not cooking anything. If you want somethin', make it yourself."

I frowned at his suggestion. I wasn't sure if I knew how to cook anything. Since I woke up in the box, I've never thought about _cooking. _I bit my lips, thinking that I was probably getting myself into another job tryout unintentionally. The smell of food coming from the kitchen was overwhelming though, so I smiled and made my decision.

"Okay!" I replied excitedly and rushed to the front door. Before I could open it though, Frypan was already there.

"Wait!" he said sharply, holding a hand out in front of me. "Ya think I'm gonna let you in all drenched like this?"

I frowned in confusion. "But you told me-"

"Go and get dry first. Change, bathe in the sun, I don't know," Frypan shrugged. "Come back here when you're dry."

"But-"

Frypan slammed the door in my face. I jumped back, scowling. Mentally, I counted how many times that has happened to me that day—first with Bill and now with Frypan. I groaned and walked to the middle of the Glade where there was no shade and only heat. I lied down on the ground, throwing my arms out and grumbling to myself.

It was so hot that I felt myself get sweaty after a few long minutes. I closed my eyes, letting my clothing dry up a bit. Occasionally, a random Glader would come up to me and ask, 'are you alive?' which I responded with a glare.

Finally, when I felt my clothes warm up, I got up. My clothes were lighter so I knew that I was dry…or almost dry. I extracted the excess water from my pants and clothes before running back to the kitchen.

"Frypan! Oh, Frypan!" I called out, knocking loudly on the door. "I'm dry!"

I heard footsteps make their way to the door. Frypan yanked it open, scanning me up and down. "That's not dry," he pointed out.

"It's as dry as I can get," I retorted. "Can I please come in now?"

He rolled his eyes and opened the door wider. "Go on. Make something for yourself. I'mma go out."

I blinked. "Wait. Y-you aren't gonna help me?"

Frypan gave me an amused look. "I just told you—I cooked for the entire Glade. Make it yourself."

"Wh-what about a cook book, at least?"

"None."

Before I could say anything else, he shut the door, leaving me all alone inside the kitchen. I let a sigh escape my lips as I looked around the kitchen—it was actually quite big in size, compared to the Baggers' hut.

Well, but then I guessed everything was big compared to the Bagger's hut.

Pots and pans were hanging from hooks made out of ropes. Countless jars and containers were lined up on crooked, unsteady shelves with labels on them. The side of the kitchen had two stoves and empty tables next to it. On the other side of the stoves were two giant pots, both facing down and looking wet. The opposite side of the stoves, right underneath the window, was a flat empty surface with cutting boards and cutleries decorating the top. Next to it was a small refrigerator. The back of the kitchen had a whole shelf filled with plates, small pans, bowls and other kitchen utensils like measuring cups, sifters, rolling pins and spatulas. Next to the metal shelf was what made me smile—a waffle iron.

I thought of making waffles for myself, but then I remembered that I didn't actually know how to use the iron. I sighed and walked to the middle of the kitchen were there was a small, empty island. Two chairs were present so I sat down on one and tapped my fingers while trying to figure out what to eat.

My eyes strayed to the shelves with jars and containers. I looked at their labels, seeing the name of the ingredients Frypan owned. There was garlic powder, cocoa powder, basil leaves, a pepper shaker, baking powder—wait, _baking powder_.

I stared at the container labeled 'baking powder' and thought of something to bake. It was a weird feeling. I knew what I wanted to make and I knew exactly _how _to make it but I don't remember ever _making _it before. Sighing, I got up and took the baking powder of the shelf. Automatically, my hands reached out to grab other stuff—like some salt and all-purpose flour.

After I gathered all the ingredients and tools that I would be needing, I laid it all out on the island and smiled. I started adding ingredients and mixing it up. It came naturally, like I've made this exact recipe a hundred times in my past life.

Half an hour later, I proudly set my food down on a plate and exited the kitchen.

* * *

><p>"What are those?" Newt asked, taking a seat in front of me.<p>

"These?" I asked, looking at the flat batter cake I was munching on. He nodded. "Pancakes."

"Frypan made _pancakes_…for lunch?" he tilted his head in a confused way, scratching his scalp.

I smiled. "No, _I_ made pancakes…for _me_."

Newt stopped scratching his head and stared at me. "_You_?"

"Me."

"_Y-you_…made pancakes?"

I rolled my eyes and sliced another piece of pancake. "Why are you looking at me like I just killed a Griever or something?"

"Frypan never lets anyone into his kitchen," Newt said, still staring at me disbelievingly. "Only his bloody cooks and there's only two of them."

"Well, there's a first time for everything, right?" I shrugged, not bothering.

"But…" Newt trailed off and narrowed his eyes. "Wait, did you tryout as a cook just now?"

"No…I don't think so. I don't know. Maybe?" I mumbled, taking another bite of my syrup-soaked pancakes. "I just told him that I was hungry and he told me to go make something myself."

Newt let out a deep breath, still looking slightly surprised. After a while, he shook his head and asked, "So why weren't you with Bill? I saw the bugger just now but not you."

"Oh, right," I said, remembering my sad excuse of a _tryout_. "He told me to tell you that I failed."

Newt scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Well, that's not a surprise at all," he then narrowed his eyes and looked at my appearance. "Why are you all wet?"

"I'm not…wet," I tried denying his accusation.

"Your hair is damp," he pointed out, smirking. "And your clothes are dark."

I looked down at my shirt and darted my eyes as far as I could to see my hair. The clumps near my head were frizzled and still damp, falling ungracefully in front of my eyes. I sighed and confessed, "I got into a water fight."

"Water fight?" Newt repeated. "How'd that bloody happen?"

"I found the river…and Chuck."

Newt snorted. "Well, that explains it."

I rolled my eyes and continued to chew on my pancakes. The other Gladers started crowding in the dining area. Newt already took his food and was finishing up quicker than I was. Maybe it was because I made too many pancakes. I aimed for only four at the most, but ended up with eight. Maybe I overdid them.

After burping, Newt looked at my still full plate of pancakes. "Hey, Andy?"

"Yes?"

"Can I have some?"

Smiling, I pushed the plate towards him. "Go ahead. I think I made too much."

Newt returned the smile and started cutting up the pancakes. It wasn't long before he started stuffing them into his mouth, munching on the food unattractively. The sight made me chuckle, though. Newt stopped chewing after his first swallow and looked at me skeptically. I wrung my fingers, thinking that maybe it tasted horrible and Newt wanted to puke it back out. To my surprise, he grinned.

"That's good," he said. "Bloody delicious."

I scoffed, brushing my fingers through my strands of dried hair. "Yeah, right. You don't have to be so nice because I gave you some, Newt."

"No, seriously," he spoke, widening his eyes for added effect. "This taste great. I've never tasted pancakes this good."

"Newt-"

"I'm not lying," he said earnestly, holding up a piece of pancake in his fork. "These are brilliant, really."

Releasing a deep breath, I smiled. "Well, thanks then."

Newt suddenly put the fork down and stood up, scanning the place for someone. I followed his eyes, looking around confusedly for whomever. His eyes lit up as it fell on somebody and he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Frypan! Oi, Fry, come 'ere!"

An alarm burst in me as Newt did that. I sharply kicked his feet from under the table and told him to just shut up. "Newt, no! Sit down! Just shut up…shut up!" That didn't happen though.

"Come here, Fry," Newt beckoned again as the said boy turned to walk closer in our direction. I groaned and covered my face with hair, trying hard to stay unnoticed, but it was in vain. "Did you _actually_ let her make her own food?"

"Yeah," Frypan nodded. "But the kitchen was a total shuck battlefield afterwards."

Newt nodded, giving me a mischievous smile. Before I could do anything else, he pushed the plate towards Frypan. "Taste that."

"No, Newt-" I tried to grab the plate but he pulled it away and handed it over to Frypan.

I grumbled as Frypan got hold of the plate and took a bite of the pancakes. I blew the hair out of my face, annoyed, and waited for any feedback.

"Hey, this is actually pretty good," Frypan said after swallowing. "Did you really make this?"

"…yes," I replied slowly, gravitating my eyes towards his standing self.

My stomach knotted when Newt and Frypan shared a look, silently conversing with their eyes and sharing smirks. I frowned when they both turned to me simultaneously.

"Say, Frypan," Newt started, grinning. "Do you have time for a try out today?"

"Well, dinner hasn't started yet," he answered, mirroring Newt's knowing look. "I might need some help."

I glanced back and forth between them, hoping they weren't talking about what I thought they were talking about.

* * *

><p>The day was getting dark and I was sitting on a bench outside of the Deadheads. I left the kitchen a while ago to go relax and walk around the Glade after cooking dinner.<p>

Frypan was harsh at first, telling me that the vegetables I cut had to be perfect and not dissimilar in size. Surprisingly, I didn't mess up like I thought I would. I cut all the ingredients perfectly and cooked the dinner just like he instructed me to. He even tasted my cooking.

Frypan looked impressed, but I didn't hope too much in front of him.

I think I got the job though, since he said "see ya tomorrow for breakfast, greenie," when I left.

Sitting on a bench, I kept staring at the Map Room—the place where Runners gathered right after running. Six Runners had come back from the Maze and entered the mysterious room. Only the East Door had no Runners passing through it, not yet. I recalled back all the Runners I saw and realized that Minho was one of those still not back yet.

I narrowed my eyes and kept my gaze firmly on the giant concrete walls, wondering why Minho wasn't back yet. The sky was darkening and turning a light shade of orange but no sign of life could be seen on the other side of the wall. I shook my head, getting rid of any worry I felt—he had been running since he first arrived here. Shuck, he was the _Keeper _of the Runners. I'm pretty sure he knew what he was doing.

Sighing, I leaned back on the bench and continued to observe the Runners entering and exiting the Map Room. From what I gathered, five of them had exited and only one was left inside.

A movement from the East Door drew my attention and I saw that it was another boy clad in a white shirt—not blue. He ran into the Glade and immediately entered the Map Room. I frowned, looking at Maze Door in question.

Why was Minho not back yet?

I felt like hitting myself for being so worried about someone I just met for, like, four days, but I ignored it. I didn't want someone—_anyone_—to die, certainly not during my first week here.

The two other Runners exited the Map Room together, talking about something unimportant while walking to the kitchens. I huffed, crossing my arms and waiting for the Asian boy to run into the Glade. After a while of nothing happening, I stood up and started walking to the wall, not sure why.

Before I could make it halfway to the wall though, Minho ran in. A relieved sigh escaped my lips and I frowned, wondering where it came from. I brushed it off and stood at the spot I was in, watching him run in my direction—or the Map Room behind me.

Minho saw me and slowed down, his face twisting in confusion. "Greenie? What are you doing here?"

"Why are you late?" I asked straightforwardly, and instantly felt like stapling my lips.

"Why am I…?" Minho repeated, looking taken aback. "I always…it's only…am I really…? N-no—wait," his eyes narrowed, looking at me. "Why are you asking me that?"

I blinked, looking away from him. "No reason."

"How long have you been standing here?" he asked suspiciously, crossing his arms.

"Sitting, actually. I was sitting on that bench," I pointed behind me. "…For awhile."

Minho looked at the bench and then to me, his lips suddenly quirked into a teasing smile. "Oh, I see…you were _worried_, weren't you?"

My face contorted in confusion. "What?"

"You were worried," he repeated, smiling smugly. "About me."

I blinked once, then twice. In a blank voice, I said, "You're pretty vain, aren't you?"

Minho snorted. "A shanks gotta do what a shanks gotta do."

That only made me even more confused. "_What_?"

"Nothing, greenie," he replied, grinning knowingly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta go finish my job," he said and jerked his head to the room behind me.

Minho walked past me and I scowled. For some reason, I didn't want to go spend time with Newt or Chuck or anyone else. I had hung out with them since my first day and I wanted to try making friends with someone else. Minho seemed pretty cool, too. I jogged to catch up with him.

"Where are you going?" I asked as I got into stride with him.

"The Map Room."

"Why?"

"To map the shuck Maze."

"Why map it?"

"To remember it…see if anything changes…find clues…the usual."

"How do you map it?"

"With a paper, pencil and good memory."

"Do you always map it?"

"Yes."

"Do you run _every_day?"

Minho stopped walking and turned back to me. "You gonna be asking questions the whole way, greenie?"

"Can't help it," I shrugged blatantly. "I'm bored."

Minho breathed out a scoff-ish laugh and continued walking to the Map Room. I followed closely, not fully sure why. I looked around, trying to see if Newt or Chuck was anywhere and frowned when I saw none. When Minho reached the mediocre sized building, he turned to me sternly.

"Only Runners allowed in."

I rolled my eyes but sighed defeatedly. "Fine," I grumbled and plopped down onto the grass.

Minho observed my sitting figure on the floor, his eyebrows scrunched. "Uh…what the shuck are you doing?"

"Waiting for you to finish up?"

He blinked. "…And why would you do that?"

"I don't know," I shrugged, not having an answer. "Cause I wanna hang out?" I wasn't sure where that came from, but I knew it was true.

"Well, don't you have some other shank to hang out with?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. I frowned, wondering why that question stung. I think he saw the rejection in my eyes because he quickly sputtered, "No! I mean, not that I don't wanna hang out. I'd love to, but I'm kinda busy right now. We can hang out later after dinner? Don't you have Newt or Chucky boy to be around now?"

I smiled and replied, "I've been hanging around them since my first day. I love them and all, but I think it's time to make more friends…not that I'm blowing them off or anything. They're still my best friends."

Minho looked at me and leaned against the door. "So you're just gonna sit here?"

"Yup. Go on and finish your map."

"You're making me feel bad, greenie," Minho said, frowning.

I rolled my eyes again. "Then don't feel! Go inside, be quick and finish your map or whatever. And it's _Andy _not greenie."

"Fine, greenie," he grinned, purposely ignoring my comment. "I'll be right back."

I gave him a thumbs-up and resorted to pick out the grass under my feet. I didn't hear the door close though, so I looked back up. Minho was still leaning against the door, a thoughtful look on his face. He snapped his head down to meet me when I cleared my throat. He carefully looked to his right and to his left before crouching down to my level.

"You know what? Why don't you come in?" he whispered, like he was about to reveal a huge a huge secret.

I stopped ripping the grass and widened my eyes. "Seriously? But I thought-"

"Yeah, I know, I know. Only Runners allowed, yadda, yadda, yadda."

"Actually, you said 'only Runners allowed'. There was no yadda, yadda, yadda," I retorted smartly, grinning.

Minho grinned back, amused. "Funny," he said, standing back up. "Come on in."

"Are you sure I can go in there?" I asked, tentative about entering The Runners' meeting place.

He sighed and crossed his arms. "The _Keeper _of the Runners is inviting you into the shucking Map Room. That's, like, a once in a lifetime chance, greenie. You're really questioning me?"

I didn't answer, choosing to just peek between his legs to see inside. It was dark and I couldn't see a thing. I looked back up at Minho, uncertain about entering their lair.

"I'm counting, greenie," he said suddenly, annoyed. "One, two, three. Goodbye."

_Slam_. Before I cold even register what was happening, another door slammed in front of my face. I think doors hated me for some unexplainable reason. I frowned, hurrying to stand up. My hands touched the doorknob and I pushed it open slowly. My eyes didn't strain to look in the dark room as it was already bright—the lights were on. I stepped inside, closing the door behind me.

The Map Room was a big mess of papers and shelves everywhere. In the middle was a table, where Minho was sitting and drawing what I assumed to be the Maze. The room was fairly wide though, with lots of space from only the table and shelves occupying.

"Finally," Minho voiced, not looking up from his paper. "Thought you were gonna stay outside."

I scoffed. "Not likely," I walked over to the table and sat down opposite him, awkwardly moving back and forth. I continued to survey the room from inch to inch while Minho focused on his map. "This place is really messy."

"But somehow, it's a miracle that we manage to keep track of everything," he replied, laughing. Not a minute later though, he put down his pencil and said, "Finished."

"That was fast," I commented.

"The same shucky thing I've been drawing for three years, greenie," Minho sighed, folding it and stacking it above some other papers on a shelf. Then he turned to me and said, "Come on, I wanna show ya something."

I got of the chair and willingly followed Minho to a door at the back of the room. He took out some keys from his backpack and opened the lock. The other room place was pitch black until he switched on the lights. I immediately saw stacks of shoeboxes, and random shoes piling around the bottom. There were a few backpacks on the other side of the room, all piled up against one another. There was a small box underneath a shelf with random things inside like watches, water bottles and other Runner stuff.

"I gotta change my shoes. Mine are worn out," Minho said, his voice muffled through his rummaging.

While he did exactly what he came for, I snooped around the place. The watches were tempting to take, but I knew that the Runners were the only ones allowed to use them. My eyes landed on a pair of shoes that sparked my interest. I walked closer to it, seeing it on the floor with the rest of the shoes.

"Hey, Min, look," I called out and turned to him, the pair of shoes already in my hands. "These shoes are pink."

Minho turned around and saw the shoes before scoffing. "Duh, do you notice the sun rises everyday?"

I rolled my eyes at his sarcasm and asked, "Why are they pink?"

"I don't know, shuck Creators thought us guys dig it?" he answered.

I continued looking at the shoes. It was beautiful. It had patterned rubber soles and comfy, cushioned insoles that were snug and warm. The linings around the shoes were white and contrasted against the neon pink color.

"It's pink."

"Congratulations, greenbean. Your brain is still working," Minho snorted.

"But pink is for girls," I commented, frowning at the pair of shoes.

"Yeah, tell those shuck-faced Creators that," he responded and let out a triumphant sigh when he found the shoes he was looking for.

"Hey, Minho?" I called out, still looking at the pink shoes.

"Hm?"

"Do you think they sent these _pink _shoes…because I…could be a…you know," I paused, gulping before mumbling out, "Runner?"

Minho's head turned to me sharply and he narrowed his eyes. "Hah. Hilarious. No."

I rolled my eyes, trying to not feel so hurt by that and reluctantly placed the shoes down when Minho exited the storage closet. He waited for me to exit before locking it back. I looked around the place once again, feeling awkward. My eyes landed on a board on the wall and I strained my eyes to look at it closely.

_The Runners' Manual by Minho_

_Mission: To solve the Maze_

Underneath the huge title were instructions, warnings and rules about being a Runner. I laughed to myself, reading it silently. The manual had such a…Minho-ish style to them. It was blatantly obvious that it really _was _Minho who wrote it. I don't know why but I turned to Minho and asked possibly the stupidest question alive.

"You wrote this?"

"Nah. A Griever gave it to me," he replied sarcastically. "Can't you tell?"

I ignored his comment and sat on the chair as he put on his shoes. "Where do you get all those supplies? I mean, I know they come from the box but how do they know exactly what to give you?"

"We drop notes," he answered simply. "In the box."

I felt my mouth drop in shock. "Seriously?" Minho nodded. "So I can ask for things by dropping notes?"

Minho let out a hum of affirmation. "Yup. We even asked for TV's once. Didn't get that."

I laughed, quickly thinking that I should probably send notes too. I regarded Minho's hair, seeing it look perfectly rigid. "By any chance, did you ever ask for hair gel?

"Why?" he asked.

"Your hair's just…perfect," I said, gesturing towards it. Minho laughed. "Seriously, look at that—all flawless and fixed. And you've been running too."

Minho nodded, cracking a grin. "Actually, I did. For the Runners with shucked long hair, mainly."

We both laughed. After that, we started conversing about random topics. Only our voices and laughs were heard throughout the Map Room. Luckily, no one entered. About half an hour later, I was talking and enjoying myself with Minho like I've known him for a long time. Maybe I knew him from my past life?

He was telling me about his Runners, when I heard his change of voice when he was talking about 'Ben'.

"Wait, who's Ben?" I asked.

Minho sighed, running his hand over his forehead. "My running partner…the shuck-face."

"Well, you seem bitter about him," I teased, laughing. "Why? He can't be that bad."

He scoffed, twiddling with a pencil in his hands. "You're not the one hearing comments about how 'the new greenie's a _babe_ and all'."

"Seriously?" I laughed before actually registering what he said in my brain. My face twisted in disgust. "Ew, don't say that."

"What?" he asked, cocking his eyebrows. "Babe?"

"It sounds weird," I remarked, scratching my nose. "And…ew," I shuddered. "It's so cheesy. Just don't say that."

I frowned when Minho's lips slowly broke into a sly smile. "Okay…_babe._"

"I just said don't! Ugh," I threw a pencil at his face. He dodged it and laughed.

"Whatever you say, _babe_," he continued, smirking.

I glared at him, figuring that I should've known better since the same thing happened when I told him to call me Andy instead of greenie. "Shut _up_, Minho."

"Fine, fine," he raised his arms in mock surrender. His lips were still smirking though. "_Babe_."

Throwing another pencil at his head, I got up and said, "I'm outta here."

"Good. I am too, _ba_-" I cut him off by punching his shoulder. He just cracked up laughing.

"Shut up, Minho," I scowled, walking towards the door. "I really don't like you right now."

"Aw-shucks, I like you too…_babe_," he said impishly.

I felt a smile come to my lips but I repressed it and walked out of the Map Room with Minho behind me. "Seriously, stop it."

"Alright…_babe_."

"Oh my god. I'm going to find someone else to hang out with, then," I rolled my eyes, starting to walk away from him. "Don't follow me."

Minho nodded, giving me a mock-salute. "Roger that. B'sides, I need to find the other Runners for a briefing before tomorrow. Gonna take awhile to get all those shuck-faces in one place. See ya at dinner, green."

I waved at him, feeling relieved that he didn't continue with his embarrassing callings. Greenie was better, i guessed. Just as I started walking away though, he shouted.

"Bye, _babe_!"

I let out an aggravated huff. "Minho!"

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><p><strong>Reviews to comments:<strong>

**AriLee: Yay! Team Minho!**

**Deception is Deception: Thanks for loving it. Yeah, he did great as Gally. Thanks for reviewing! :)**

**FrenchTifa: Thanks for the review! Glad to know that you'll follow the story closely. There you go, a bit of Minho! :)**

**Guest: Yeah, maybe. I'll let you all decide what to call them. :)**

**Kimzie-kitty: Thanks for pointing that out! I can't believe I missed that. :)**

**sango691: Thank you! Nice to know that you love it. Hope you continue! **

**ptl4ever419: Good that. Thanks for reviewing! :)**

**Lottielue1: Wow, thanks for the long review. I'm planning for her to be close to Chuck, something like a sister to him. It's great to know that you liked how I portray them. :)**

**IvyMoore: Haha, it's okay. Anything's fine with me. I think Gally isn't a total douchebag…just mistaken? Thanks for the review, man! :)**

**Thanks for reading! :)**

**P.S. I don't know why I do it, but I always seem to add a smiley at the end of my notes…maybe I'm weird. I just have to show people that I am smiling and happy.**


	6. The Glade Is Haunted

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Maze Runner**

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><p><span>Chapter 6: The Glade Is Haunted<span>

"Andy?" a voice called as the hammock I was in shook. "Bloody hell. Why are you so hard to wake?"

I groaned, turning to face Newt. "I'm up, I'm up…" I said, rubbing both my eyes. Sighing, I sat up on the hammock despite my tightly closed eyes and asked, "Whaz…uh…whad…d'you…want...?"

I heard Newt chuckle before a hand ruffled my hair. Swatting his hand away, I grumbled incoherently, still drowsy. "What was that for…shuck-face?"

"Sorry," he said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. "You're just cute in the morning."

My closed eyes scrunched together and I inwardly wondered if I heard him right. I opened my eyes slowly, adjusting to the faint light and stared puzzlingly at him. "What?"

"Nothin'," he answered, an arch grin on his face.

"No, you just said-"

"You're going to be late," he cut me off briskly. "Frypan's waiting for you."

I frowned at his interjection but was too tired to do anything about it. Confused, I asked, "Why?"

"Breakfast, lass," he answered mischievously, crossing his arms. "You're late for your first day."

Nodding, I yawned and stretched on the hammock. "Oh," I said and scratched my head. I felt the gears in my head turn until I finally understood what Newt meant. My eyes snapped open instantly. "_Oh!_"

Not wasting anymore time, I swiftly jumped off the hammock and straightened out my clothes. I spared a quick glance at the mirror, brushing my fingers through my hair quickly and wiping my face.

"Why didn't you wake me up earlier?" I shrieked.

Newt only chuckled at my hasty and unceremonious self. I ignored it and ran out of the door, rushing straight towards the kitchen.

"Don't poison anyone!" I heard Newt's amused voice holler.

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><p>After being late, changing the menu for breakfast from sandwiches, teaching the other cooks how to make my recipe and receiving praise—much to the two cooks, Niels and Willy's surprise—from Frypan, I was let off the hook and was free to go. I decided to sit at a table, with my food, while waiting for Newt, Chuck and Minho to arrive.<p>

For some reason, all my lunch table buddies were late. As the Gladers started piling into the dining area, Newt, Chuck and Minho were nowhere to be seen. Even Alby, Winston and Clint, who usually sat together with them. I kept looking around, searching the Glade for them. Eventually, I gave up and started eating alone.

A few minutes after eating by myself, I saw both Newt and Alby walk towards me from afar. I narrowed my eyes when I saw them converse in a secretive manner and turn to smile devilishly at me.

"What are you smiling at?" I asked Newt as he slid into the seat in front of me.

Newt exchanged a look with Alby before saying, "Nothing. Nothing at all."

I frowned when Alby hid a small smirk. "No, seriously. What are you guys up to?"

"Nothing, Andy," Newt insisted. "Just some Glader stuff, s'all."

My eyes narrowed suspiciously, glancing between the both of them. I reluctantly let go off the topic, but promised myself that I would ask Newt later on. They both started eating and chatting casually.

"So, Andy. How was kitchen duty?" Newt asked.

I smiled. "It was good."

"Kitchen duty? You're a cook?" Alby raised his eyebrows. "What'd you do? Chop some lettuce?"

I rolled my eyes. "For your information, I made what you are eating."

"Really?" Newt asked, munching on his food. I nodded proudly. "Well, they _are_ good. No wonder Frypan's never served us this."

"He wanted to make egg sandwiches," I said. "I just changed it a little."

"What are these anyway?" Alby asked. "Some weird bread?"

"_French toast_," I corrected.

Alby made a hum of satisfaction and continued eating his breakfast. Newt flashed a smile at me, biting into his toast. "Told you you'd do good as a cook," he said smugly.

"You didn't tell me anything," I retorted, laughing softly.

"It was implied," he shrugged. "But really though, this _is _good."

I smiled, feeling my heart flutter at his compliment. Where the feeling came from? I didn't even know. I shook it off and said, "Thanks."

We three started talking about random things when I saw Minho and Chuck. What puzzled me was the fact that they were walking _together_. As far as I knew, Minho wasn't actually good friends with Chuck. Hell, he didn't even know about Chuck until I made him sit at the table. I observed them. Minho was telling the little boy something, and the latter responded with a nod.

They got closer to us and as they were about to sit, Minho whispered something in Chuck's ear. I frowned, suspicion tugging at my brain. I kept my mouth shut though, trying not to seem nosey.

"Hey, guys," Minho said, sliding into his spot beside me. Newt and Alby answered his greeting and he turned to me, giving me a teasing smile. "Hey, _babe_."

I groaned, lowering my head down in annoyance. "Minho," I said in a warning tone.

Minho chuckled as Chuck sat down next to him. He waved at me, a curious look on his face. I waved back and shook my head, mentally telling him to forget it—Minho was just embarrassing me.

"Wait," Newt suddenly spoke, his eyes darting between Minho and I suspiciously. I also think I spotted a slight glare sent towards the Runner when he asked, "Are you two…together?"

I choked on my food as the question escaped his mouth. Coughing, I turned away to cover my mouth. Minho laughed, patting my back and saying, "Yup."

"No!" I immediately said, denying Minho's claim. I shot a deathly look at him before clearing my throat. "We're not. No way. Ever. This shuck-face here just likes annoying me."

"Who're you calling a shuck-face, shuck-face?" Minho asked, frowning.

"You," I retorted. I looked at Newt, seeing his brows furrow. He stared at Minho darkly, with something else in his eyes I couldn't recognize. I frowned and suddenly felt the urge to assure him. "Seriously, Newt. We aren't. I mean, Minho? Come on."

Minho pulled a face. "Hey, what's wrong with Minho?"

"Everything," I answered simply, smirking. I turned to Newt and raised my shoulders when he frowned. "Newt?"

"So you're…_not _with him?" he asked carefully.

I shook my head earnestly. "Nope."

I vaguely heard Minho cough out "_you wish you were_," and I kicked his leg underneath the table. His painful yelp satisfied me. I kept my eyes on Newt, wanting him to realize that Minho was just being stupid and that I was not with him.

_Psh, like that'll ever happen_, I thought, scoffing.

"Good," Newt said after awhile. Before I could smile, he added a, "For a moment there, I thought you were cheating on me."

My mouth fell open in shock as his lips broke into a sly grin. Chuck burst out laughing and Minho looked at me incredulously. "You're with this dude?"

"No! I…w-wait…what the…" I sputtered, not knowing what to make of the situation. I felt my face heat up when Newt started chuckling. Minho understood what the blond boy was doing and joined in. They both reached out to for a triumphant high five in the middle of the table. "You guys are ganging up on me!"

Newt smirked, lowering his hands. "Now, why would we do such a thing?"

"Yeah," Minho grinned. "We're cool shanks."

I frowned, pouting slightly at their teasing gazes. "Alby! Look at them!"

"I am," he answered, clearly amused with the whole situation.

"They're ganging up on me," I whined. "Do something! You're the leader."

He shrugged, a small smirk on his lips. "I think I'd rather sit back and enjoy the show."

I let out a disbelieving gasp and looked at all of them incredulously. Even Chuck was chortling, his mouth full with bread. Minho and Newt just laughed, shrugging innocently whenever they caught me glaring at them. I crossed my arms and sighed, annoyed.

Their laughs were contagious though, and I felt my lips curving into a smile afterwards. "You guys are so mean," I said.

"Yeah, but you love us," Minho retorted, grinning teasingly.

I rolled my eyes, ignoring his comment. Deep down, I knew it was true though. I _was_ starting to like the Glade and having them in my life. I may not remember my past life, but to have them all in this one was a definite blessing. They might have been my enemies in the past—my ultimate rivals or just people that I hated and felt revulsion towards—but in this life, they were my friends.

And I wouldn't trade them for anything.

* * *

><p>"Hey, why weren't you guys at dinner last night?" I asked after I finished eating.<p>

I remembered arriving at dinner the night before to meet them but I couldn't find any of them. Even Chuck was nowhere to be seen, which was peculiar—he liked to eat. I waited for Newt or Minho to show up but none of them did either. Alby turned up but it was only after I finished eating and was about to go to bed. I also didn't see Newt in the room until I fell asleep.

The boys looked at each other, sharing secretive looks before Newt said, "We were just busy. Boys' stuff and all."

"Boys' stuff?" I repeated, not fully convinced. "You guys had a sleepover or something?"

Newt contemplated it and nodded. "You can say that."

"And you Chuck?" I regarded the pudgy boy. He jumped at my sharp tone, eyes wide in anxiousness. I raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You were with them?"

The little boy looked at me in alarm. He blinked unintelligently, twitching in obvious discomfort. "Uh…"

"Yup. We invited the poor shank," Minho answered for him swiftly. Seeing my suspicious look, he continued. "The friend of my friend is my friend, right?"

"Actually, it's 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend'," I corrected, rolling my eyes.

Minho scoffed. "Well, that's just messed up."

I ignored him and stared at Newt hardly. He stared back at me, smiling, but I could sense a slight spark or nervousness in it. He looked away, aiming to just finish his food but I didn't move my gaze. I continued glowering at him until he sighed.

"Really, Andy," he said insistently. "We were just having some boy talk, that's all."

"Boy talk?" I raised my eyebrow, not believing them.

"Yeah," he answered in a slow voice.

I looked around the table before asking, "About what?"

"Woah, there," Minho said quickly, pausing in his eat. "We don't ask about your shuck girl stuff so you don't get to ask about _our _shuck boy stuff."

"You've never asked about my girl stuff."

"Oh yeah? How do you cope with periods?" he asked straightforwardly, not hesitating at all. Newt smirked at that.

I felt a blush rise to my face and I hit him in his shoulder. "I'm not answering that," I retorted, crossing my arms. "And for your information, I don't _get _periods in the Glade. The Creators sent me pills."

"I don't understand what you're saying, but okay," Minho nodded uninterestedly and went back to his toast.

Chuck suddenly poked his head in front of Minho and grinned excitedly at me. "Oh, Oh, Andy! I hear you're a cook now. Really?"

I smiled at the question, a sense of pride and pleasure welling up in my chest. "Yup. In fact, I made your breakfast."

"This?" he asked, holding out his plate of toast. I nodded. "No wonder I've never had them before. I thought it was because Frypan cooked these rarely or something and I've only been here for a month."

"Nope, I made them," I replied, beaming. "Just this morning."

"I have to say, greenie, they taste good," Minho said. "Normally we just eat some klunk sandwiches and scrambled eggs or something."

Smiling, I told him, "That _was_ what Frypan was going to make before the menu changed."

"Well, thanks for saving my breakfast, then."

The boys then started talking about nonsense as I stood up to put my plate and cup away. When I was away, I kept stealing secret glances at the table, feeling as if they were hiding something from me. I took my time walking back to them, trying to make out what they were talking about when their faces turned serious.

As I got closer, their serious conversation turned into a lighthearted, casual one. I pushed away any negative thoughts and took my seat back next to Minho. Suddenly, I heard something that alarmed me.

"_Andrea_…"

A cold chill crept up my spine as I heard someone whisper my name. I tilted my head, staring at Minho. "Did you say something?"

"Uh…no?" Minho answered, looking confused.

I frowned and shook my head, thinking that it was just a figment of my imagination. I laid my head on my hands and zoned out, unconsciously listening to whatever they were talking about.

"_Andrea…_"

My head snapped up. I scrunched my eyebrows together, puzzled. Glancing around the table, I noticed that everyone was talking and didn't seem to hear anything. Deciding to turn a deaf ear to the whispers, I closed my eyes and laid my head back on my arms.

"_Andrea…"_

I jolted up in my seat, hearing the voice closer to my ear. An apprehensive feeling crawled into my heart, making it beat faster. I inspected the dining area carefully, trying to find the source of the whispers. Newt caught my harrowed face from the corner of his eyes.

"Andy?" he called, frowning. "Are you okay?"

Stopping my scrutinizing, I gave him a small smile. "I'm fine," I said but then heard the voice again.

"_Andrea…_"

"Do you hear that?" I asked him, whipping my head around to find the voice.

Newt, Alby, Minho and Chuck looked at me, bewilderment coloring their faces. "Hear what?" Newt asked.

"That whisper…" I answered, gazing at them in disbelief. "You're telling me you don't hear anything?"

"We can hear _you_," Minho shrugged.

I shook my head. "No, no. This is like…a whisper…my name," I said, frowning when they exchanged dubious looks. "You don't hear them?"

Before any of them could answer, I turned around in my seat. I tapped the shoulder of the boy sitting on the bench behind me. The boy turned, a weird expression on his face when he saw me. I realized that it was Clint and narrowed my eyes, thinking that he was the one making those whispers.

"Did you say something just now?" I asked steely.

"No," Clint answered, giving me a confounded look. "Why?"

"So you _didn't _say my name?"

Clint frowned. "Why would I say your name?"

I scowled and turned away from him. If the voices weren't from him, then who was whispering them? Shaking my head, I tried forgetting the whole thing and just blamed it on me being paranoid. I noticed that the whole table was looking at me strangely.

"What?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Newt asked, concern lacing his voice.

Nodding, I gave him a wide smile—though I could tell that he knew it was fake. "I'm fine. Just…nothing. I'm fine."

Newt gave me an uncertain look and I smiled reassuringly at him. The table then went back to random conversations. I didn't join in and kept my head down, straining to listen to any more whispers. An unnerved feeling made a web in me, remaining there throughout the whole morning.

* * *

><p>After helping Frypan make lunch, I didn't bother to eat. Instead, I sat with Chuck in the Homestead as he cleaned and dusted the hammocks, sleeping beds and cots. He was chatting away about some carving he made but I was too consumed in my thoughts to actually listen.<p>

Since the whispering episode I went through at breakfast, I kept feeling troubled and anxious. The whispers didn't stop that morning. It continued on and on throughout the day. Everytime I walked or sat or talked to someone, I would hear someone whispering my name. The cold, scratchy voice kept saying "_Andrea_…" over and over again.

I thought it was all just in my head, but it proved hard to think like that when I felt shivers go through my body when the voices literally left a lingering breath behind my ear. However, whenever I glanced back, no one could be found.

"So what was with you this morning?" asked Chuck, snapping me out of my stupor.

"Hm?" I blinked, taking some time to register what he said. "Oh. I…it was nothing."

"Really?" he pressed, not looking convinced. "You seemed pretty freaked out."

Shaking my head, I sent him a smile. "No, it was nothing. Seriously."

Chuck nodded, his eyes unconvinced though. He went back to dusting the hammocks while I spaced out, thinking about the voices.

"_Andrea..._"

I heard the whisper again and growled in frustration. What was wrong with my head? I shook my head and pressed my hands against my temples. For some reason, the voices won't stop. I contemplated that I was maybe going insane.

"Shut up," I mumbled lowly to whomever, making sure Chuck wouldn't hear me.

"_I'm coming for you…_"

I stood up from the stool abruptly, surprising Chuck. Turning around, I saw a window and poked my head out. My eyes scanned the surroundings wildly, looking for whomever that could be hiding. No one was to be seen though, and the rest of the Gladers were doing their jobs.

The door to the Homestead opened and Clint walked in. He saw me poking my head out and asked, "What are you doing?"

"…Nothing," I replied after calming myself down. I pulled my head back into the Homestead and gave Clint a quizzical look. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm going to work," Clint said like it was obvious as day, pointing to a door at the back of the Homestead. "I'm a med-jack."

"Oh…right," I breathed out, settling down on the stool again.

Clint gave me a funny look before walking into the Med-jack's room, shutting door behind him.

I squeezed my eyes, running my hands through my hair in frustration and fear. I bounced my legs on the ground briskly, feeling troubled. The last sentence the voice whispered worried me. What did it mean? '_I'm coming for you_?' Why could no one else hear it but me? Opening my eyes, I gasped when I saw Chuck right in front of me.

"Andy?" he quirked his eyebrows questioningly, confused at my jumpy manner.

I let out a relieved sigh and calmed myself down, telling myself that it was only Chuck. "Oh, Chuck. You scared me."

"I've been here the whole time," he said. He narrowed his eyes, staring at me with worry. "Are you sure you're okay? You look so…jittery."

"I'm fine," I assured him. He gave me an uncertain look and I sighed. "I am, Chuck. I just…don't know what got into me," I settled on, and smiled at him. "I think I digested something wrong. Maybe my first day cooking for everyone just…bugged me."

I wasn't making any sense, but the whispers I heard weren't either.

"Okay then…" Chuck trailed off, reluctantly going back to dusting. "You can go to Clint if you're feeling sick or something."

"No, it's nothing like that," I said, shaking my head. "I'm just…I'm just gonna go out, okay?" I told him, standing up. I walked to the door, trying not to seem so tense. "I need some fresh air. See you later."

Sending Chuck one last smile, I left the Homestead, in pursue of clearing my head.

* * *

><p>I went to the only place I knew had a tranquil atmosphere—the Deadheads. I tried to find the river but kept getting lost. Finally, I just settled on walking through the forest.<p>

Throughout my walk, I kept hearing crunching of leaves and twigs. I blamed it all on my mind though, cursing myself for being so paranoid. As much as I tried to neglect it, I constantly felt eyes watching the back of my head. Whenever I turned around though, all I saw were trees and noting else.

"_Andrea…_"

I whipped my head around, alarmed at the continuing whisper of my name. I felt my heart beat increase drastically all of a sudden as fear crept into me. "Who's there?"

No one replied and I shook my head, believing that it was just a figment of my imagination.

"_Andrea…_"

"Seriously, stop it, you guys!" I yelled out, rotating in my spot to find who was making that noise. "It's not funny!"

Just like before, no replies were heard. I couldn't see anything past the enormously packed trees. I kept turning and turning wildly though, desperate to find the source of the voice. Sweat trickled down my back as I started breathing irregularly. The forest was silent and empty, making me even more frightened.

Suddenly, I heard a sharp crack behind me. I turned around to see a dark figure looming behind a tree and a cold, scratchy voice saying, "_I'm coming for you_."

Forgetting all sanity and rationality, I screamed as loud as I could and ran.

* * *

><p>I ran through the forest, desperate to find a way out of the horrifying place. My feet padded hardly against the ground and it was a miracle that I didn't trip or fall. All logical thought in my brain vanished and was replaced with intense fear as I ran and didn't look back. My mind was spinning and I couldn't find my way out of the thick woodland.<p>

What egged me on and forbid me to stop were the sounds I kept hearing and the feeling of someone watching me. In addition to that, I also heard rustling of leaves and the footsteps of someone chasing after me. I didn't want to risk anything by looking back so I just kept on running to nowhere.

Like in one of those horror movies, I made a sharp swerve only to bump into someone.

I cried out in surprise and fright and scrambled to get up and until I heard a familiar voice. "Andy?"

"Newt?" I stopped and snapped my eyes open. "Oh my god, it's you!"

A giant wave of relief washed over me as I laughed wildly, certain that I looked like an insane person in front of him. My laugh was tinged with fright though, and I was sure that my eyes were looking scared. The fear immediately rose up again as I remembered what I was running from, and I wrapped both my arms around him.

"I can't believe you're here!" I breathed out against his ear, tightening my grip around him. "I-I was…I was being chased! And there were voices! And…a-a figure by a tree! Something said my name and-and…" I choked out quickly, not knowing what else to say.

I felt Newt's hand wrap around me again, softer this time, and patted my back comfortingly. "I was so scared, Newt."

Newt didn't answer, only kept his hands around me. I took a minute to catch my breath and regain some of my sanity back. I realized that I was holding onto Newt for dear life and slowly let go of him, embarrassed. My posture was tense though, as if I was waiting for a ghost to come out and attack me.

I eyed Newt carefully, watching his face evolve from worried to anger and to stony. Finally, his face turned blank and I couldn't read anything at all.

"Newt?"

"I knew this wasn't a good idea," he sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

If it weren't for the situation I was just in, I would've thought it made him look good._ Wait, where the hell did that come from?_ I thought, frowning slightly.

"What is it?" I asked, forgetting my foolish thoughts. "What isn't a good idea?"

Newt's face changed to that one of alarmed, like he just said something wrong. I examined him suspiciously until he said, "Leaving you alone when you obviously aren't feeling okay."

"What are you talking about?"

"You've been acting weird all morning," he said seriously. "You should really go to Clint. I'll tell Frypan you're feeling unwell."

My mouth fell open in incredulity. "What? No! I'm not sick!"

Newt ignored what I said and grabbed my hand. He started walking to where I assume was the direction out of the forest. I reluctantly followed, trying to yank my hand out of his grasp to no avail. I begrudgingly let him pull me along. When we escaped the haunting forest, I noticed that Newt was walking towards the Homestead.

He was serious about bringing me to Clint.

I started to pull my hand away from Newt but he just gripped it tighter. "Newt, come on. Seriously, I'm fine."

"You were running like a lunatic in the forest and claimed you heard voices," Newt stated simply. "Obviously, you're not."

Pushing away the sting I felt at his mistrust, I stomped my foot on the ground as we neared the Homestead. Newt only looked at my angry face and my feet before chuckling.

"Stop laughing, I don't want to go in there."

"Stop _stomping_, you look _ridiculous_," he retorted.

I grumbled as he brought me to the Med-room. Clint looked up in surprise from his work and gave Newt a questioning look. "Now stay here, try to get some rest. Clint'll give you painkillers if your head hurts."

"My head _does not hurt_, Newt!" I shrieked in agitation. "I don't want to be here. I should be cooking with Frypan now," I tried moving pass him to go to the kitchen but he quickly moved in front of me. I groaned, exasperated. "Newt!"

Newt stood I front of me, a stern expression on his face. "Just get some rest, Andy. Sleep. When you wake up, you can go."

"You're not the boss of me," I retorted childishly.

"Andy, please just…stay here," he sighed.

"Why here? Why can't I just sleep in the room?" I asked, crossing my arms.

Newt gave me a small knowing smile. "You'll run away if you're in the room. Here, Clint will keep an eye on you."

"Why are treating me like I'm gonna kill myself or something? I'm not crazy," I said, glaring at Newt. "Just let me go and we'll act like this never happened, how bout that? I never ran into you said stupid things."

Newt rolled his eyes. "No."

"But-"

"Andy!" Newt cried out in annoyance. He took a deep breath and exhaled, placing his hands on my shoulders. "Just sleep, okay? When you wake up, you can do anything you want. I promise. You can even go camping in the Deadheads if you like."

I growled out in frustration, wanting to protest. Newt kept a firm hold on me though, and gave me an imploring stare. He mouthed a 'please' and I rolled my eyes but felt my resolve breaking. Finally, I sighed in defeat as he grinned triumphantly, knowing that he won.

"Fine. Whatever. I'll _sleep_."

* * *

><p>"<em>Andrea<em>," the voice hissed. "_Andrea…"_ it continued, sounding closer to my ear. "_It's almost time…_" the voice cackled a snarky, chilling laugh that sent shivers up my spine. "_It's almost time for me to come for you!"_

I screamed as I woke up harshly from my slumber. My heart was beating fast that I could actually hear it, and a resonating echo rang in my ears. I was sweating and cold, panting like I couldn't breath enough to live. The nightmare was still fresh in my mind, like it just happened a second ago.

The voice sounded so _real_.

"Nightmare?" I heard Clint ask. My head snapped to him, seeing that he was sitting casually on a chair. He raised a questioning eyebrow when I didn't reply.

I closed my eyes and shook my head. "It's nothing…um, how long have I been here?"

"You were in here at 3.20...and now it's 7.10," he said, taking a look at his wristwatch.

"You have a watch?" I asked and he nodded. It took some time for my anxious mind to understand what he said. "Wait, I've been here for _how long_?"

"Three hours and fifty minutes."

I breathed out a breath of disbelief. "I've been here for almost four hours?"

"Why does everything that comes out of your mouth sound like a question?" he responded, rolling his eyes. "You're free to go."

Clint quickly turned around and started scribbling something on his desk. I took a moment to calm myself before getting off the bed and walking out of the room. When I stepped out of the Homestead, the dark purple sky immediately greeted me. I frowned, wondering how I was able to sleep until twilight.

I started walking towards the kitchens, where everyone would be for dinner. The uneasy feeling followed me all the way and refused to leave as much as I wanted it to. The dimly lighted surroundings of the Glade didn't help in any way.

"Andrea!" I heard a voice call and I was ready to forget walking and run. "Andrea!"

The voice sounded human though, and I took a chance and turned around. I saw Alby jogging towards me. A sigh of relief involuntarily left my lips.

"Hey, Alby," I greeted as he got closer. "What is it?"

"I, uh, need a favor," he said, scratching his head. "Can you go get the last stack of firewood for me?"

My eyebrows scrunched at his peculiar query. I nodded my head uncertainly, still feeling freaked out to go anywhere alone, but I didn't want to seem like a weakling. "Okay. Where is it?"

"At the Deadheads," he answered. The fear in me increased as I heard of the location. "It ain't far, just by the benches. I'd get it myself, but I have to meet up with Newt to discuss something. Can you go?"

"Um…" I thought of refusing, but then Alby would probably hate me, so I nodded. "Sure. I'll go get it now."

Alby nodded. "Good. Just leave it outside the Homestead. Thanks, greenie," he said and ran off to the Homestead, leaving me alone.

I took a deep breath, and shakily released it. I gathered my determination to finish Alby's job and trudged off towards the Deadheads. When I got there though, I couldn't see any stack of firewood anywhere. I searched behind the benches and even underneath them but found nothing. Straining my eyes, I tried to locate it in the forest but could see trees and only trees.

No stack of firewood was present anywhere.

After a few minutes of searching, I concluded that another Glader already took it without Alby knowing. I sighed and started making my way to the Kitchens, feeling starved. It was already dark out and I was thankful that there were lights to guide me to the dining area.

I took my food from Frypan, who asked if I was already feeling better. I answered him politely and quickly searched the place for Alby to tell him that there was no firewood. I found him sitting with Newt, Minho, Winston, and surprisingly, Chuck. Making my way over to them, I smiled at the crowd of people around me. The fear crept away as I knew nothing could happen to me here.

"Hello, Andy," Newt greeted me with a grin. "Long nap, I take it."

"I don't know how I slept that long," I retorted and turned to Alby. "Oh, and Alby. I didn't find the stack of firewood. I think someone else took it."

Alby didn't answer as I took my usual seat next to Minho. I gave him a friendly nudge and he glared playfully. I turned to Alby, waiting for him to give me any words back, but he only stared at me confusedly.

"What are you talking about?"

"The firewood," I repeated slowly. "The one you told me to get just now?"

Alby scrunched his eyebrows, perplexed. "I didn't tell you go get any shuck firewood."

I blinked, thinking he must have knocked his head to be able to forget. It happened less than ten minutes ago. "Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't," he said back, frowning. "If I wanted someone to get me firewood, I'd ask the Builders or shanks with a bit more muscle. Not you."

Ignoring his unnecessary insult to my strength, I laughed nervously. "But you _did_. Just now, like, ten minutes ago."

"I was _here_ ten minutes ago," Alby insisted, scrutinizing me suspiciously. "What are you yappin' about, greenie?"

"_You_," I shook my head, not believing him in the slightest. I wasn't blind, I knew what I saw and it was Alby. I was a hundred percent sure it was Alby. "You told me to get a stack of firewood just now. It was you, I saw you!"

"Alby's been here since dinner started, Andy," Newt defended his friend, looking at me with concern. "Are you sure it was him?"

I recalled the situation and who asked me—it was Alby. I had no doubts about that. "It was Alby. I'm sure. I know his face. He was the face I saw."

"Maybe it was an apparition of Alby," said Minho from beside me, taking a bite of his dinner.

The fear and anxiety immediately came back, weaving black, thorny vines and suffocating me. My breathing started coming out harshly and Minho pushed his glass of water in my face. "Here, you look like you need water."

I quickly gulped down the liquid, but didn't feel any calmer afterwards. "No…no…it was you, Alby. It was you. I know it was you…I saw you…I-I…" I trailed off, looking at the faces of uncertainty around the table. They stared at me like I had gone- "I'm not crazy."

"No, we're not saying you're crazy, _babe_," Minho assured hurriedly, patting my shoulder and pushing another glass of water towards me. "You're just…not making any sense right now."

My shaky breaths came rushing out as I took a sip of the water. I gripped the cup, my hands getting sweaty. The whispers and figures in the forest came back to haunt my consciousness. Taking a deep breath, I voiced the dreaded question in my mind.

"Then who was I talking to?"

The table fell silent. Nobody spoke and I just resorted to drinking the water until I finished it, leaving my dinner untouched. Minho kept giving me more cups though, and I was too scared to ask where they came from. The whispers started over again, sounding like it came from behind me, but I resisted the urge to turn around.

"This has happened before," Newt suddenly said, breaking the silence. "With the old greenie."

"What?" Alby asked.

"Voices…figures…apparitions at dusk," he said lowly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Remember George?" he asked, glancing at the boys.

Minho, Alby, and Winston nodded while Chuck didn't. With a dumbfounded face, he asked, "Who?"

"George," Winston said. "He came before you. Was one of my Slicers."

"He told me about hearing whispers one day," Newt started solemnly. "And said I told him to go get some fertilizer in the woods, but I never did."

"Oh, I remember that," Minho stated. "It was weird."

"I didn't believe him. He was acting strange the whole day…I thought he was barmy," Newt said, shaking his head.

The suspense was killing me since I've never encountered a 'George' in the Glade. Nervously, I asked, "And what happened to him? Where is he now?"

Newt looked up at me, a grave expression on his face. "He's dead."

* * *

><p>That night, I lied in the hammock, too overwhelmed by fear and trepidation to fall asleep. Newt was already out cold while I kept twisting and turning, squeezing my eyes shut to let sleep drag me in. Unfortunately, thoughts of this 'George' and dying scared me. If I fell asleep, would I be dead in the morning?<p>

The shadows from the corner of the room always seemed to change whenever I stared at them. I was waiting for something to jump out at me, and rip me apart. Faces of ghosts started appearing in my head. The ones from horror movies were the worst—Exorcist, Poltergeist, The Ring, Nightmare On Elm Street, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Child's Play…

I let out a shaky breath, trying to stop my head from going wild. Every single unidentifiable sound I heard made me jump in fright. The voices had stopped but the lingering sound in my mind hasn't.

What could be worse? Oh right, I needed to urinate. And the bathrooms were the closest to the Deadheads. Wasn't that just perfect?

Damn Minho for giving me too much water.

Slowly, I got off the hammock and tiptoed over to Newt. I crouched beside him and started poking his shoulder. "Newt. Newt?"

Newt didn't respond, only snored lightly and turned away. I whimpered hopelessly and started shaking him. I was trying hard to hold it in, but I was desperate. Waiting until morning wasn't an option.

"Newt, wake up," I whispered harshly. "Newt, come on. Wake up. I need to go to the bathroom."

The blond boy groaned and pushed my hand of his shoulders. He cracked one eye open sleepily and asked, "Wh-what…?"

If I weren't frightened out of my wits at that moment, I would have smiled at his adorable, drowsy look. However, I _was _frightened out of my wits at that moment, so I shook him rougher and answered, "I need to go to the bathroom."

"Oh…" he nodded, heavy-eyed. "Okay."

"Newt?" I called when he looked like he was falling back to sleep.

He jerked his head back up, despite his closed eyes, and scrunched his eyebrows. "What?"

Swallowing my pride, I asked, "Can you accompany me?"

Newt grumbled loudly and turned to face the other way. "No," he muttered. "Go yourself."

"But Newt…" I whined, barely able to stay there any longer. "I don't want to die!"

I didn't get any response. Newt started snoring once again after that, and I exhaled despairingly. Not wanting to disturb Newt's sleep, I quickly bolted out of the room. I made my way through the bodies of Gladers downstairs and ran to the bathroom like my life depended on it.

And it _did_.

I sprinted through the grass in the night, not seeing where I was going. The light emitting from the bathroom was dim, but could be seen. Clearing my head, I ran to it and didn't stop until I reached the place. I quickly relieved my self and sighed. Not wanting anything to happen, I washed my hands hastily and stepped out of the cubicle I was in.

Then, the lights went out.

My breath hitched as I froze. Refusing to scan my surroundings, I tried to walk in the direction of the exit, but hit a solid wall instead. I let out a fearful whimper, closing my eyes and starting to breath harshly.

"_Andrea…_"

I gasped as the chilling, scratchy voice started once again. My hands desperately tried to feel for the door, but I couldn't find it. I felt sinks and walls but no door and I wondered if someone shut it close.

"_It's time…_"

I ignored the fear building up in me and finally felt a latch. I tried to open it but realized that it was locked on the other side. I was trapped. I hyperventilated, stepping back and placing my hands on my ears. I squeezed my eyes shut and slid down against a wall, trying to keep myself cal.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up," I muttered over and over. "Shut up. Leave me alone."

The lights suddenly flickered back on, but just as I was about to stand up, it turned off. I stayed glued to the wall, not confident that I would live if I walked somewhere else.

Suddenly, the door burst open abruptly. I cried out in surprise and fear when I saw a black hooded figure striding towards me. I tried to move my legs but they were frozen. The figure seized me by my waist and hoisted me up, flinging me over its shoulders. I screamed as loud as I can, kicking and punching the body of the figure wildly.

The figure walked out of the bathroom, taking me along. I tried yelling out for help but it was like no one could hear. When I saw trees getting more and more compacted, I knew that we were already in the forest. The destination was clear in my head as I remembered Newt telling me more about George after dinner.

"_He was found dead at the graveyard the next morning._"

I started panicking and screaming bloody murder. My thrashing got more violent as I kept throwing punches to the back of the person's body. It grunted in pain and jumped, making me slam down against its shoulder. I gasped in pain but didn't stop hitting him.

"Let go off me!" I shrieked. "Let go of me you freaky apparition! Let go!"

My leg slammed against something on his body. I didn't know what, but it suddenly yelped out in pain and let me go. I fell to the hard, grassy ground and winced.

"Ow!" the hooded figure yelled, bending down and clutching his... "Shuck! You didn't have to hit me in the nuts, klunk-head!"

I frowned, straining my eyes to get a good look at the…boy? He jumped up and down, and fell to the ground, moaning painfully. I blinked and started to stand up, confused. If this wasn't the ghost trying to kill me, then it must be some random Glader. Thoughts flew into my head and I felt around for something to hit him with.

My hands touched a long piece of wood and I grabbed it, picking it up to hit the person. The boy's eyes widened his eyes when he saw the stick. He raised his hands in defense and started sputtering, "Hey! Hey, wait! I-it's me, Gally!"

My brows furrowed. "Gally?"

"Yeah, it's me," he said, pulling the hood of his face. "It's just me."

"Just you…" I narrowed my eyes. "That's a good enough reason to hit you."

His eyes showed confusion and worry. "What?"

"What are you doing here?" I screamed angrily, swinging the stick in his face. "You think this is funny? Huh?"

Gally scrambled to get away from the stick. "No! No! This is all Minho!" he shouted in a panicked tone. "It's all his idea!"

"Minho…?" I said, scrunching my eyebrows.

Suddenly, flames started to light up from torches. I squinted my eyes at the sudden burst of light and looked around. One by one, Gladers started to come out of trees. Their expressions of amusement and thrill made me even more confused.

"You ruin everything, Gally," a familiar voice said. I turned to it and saw that it was Minho, holding a newly lighted torch.

"Did you see her? The girl had a shuck stick aimed at me!" Gally replied harshly.

My eyes caught the Gladers appearing—Minho, Chuck, Clint, Frypan, Winston, Alby, Zart, and a few boys I didn't recognize.

"Wait, what's going on?" I asked, extremely puzzled. "Why are you guys here?" I heard a chuckle from behind me and whipped my head around to see Newt. "Newt?"

He gave me a grin. "You can ask and blame Minho."

I frowned and looked at the said Asian boy. "Told you I'd get you back," he smirked but when he saw the stick in my hands, it turned into a sheepish smile. "Uh…surprise?"

Then, like a tidal wave, it all hit me full force. They were pranking me. I was _pranked_. I wasn't about to die—which was good—but I was a victim of Minho's prank. His revenge! Anger immediately coursed through me and I swung the stick at him.

Minho jumped back, the torch in his hand wobbling. "Whoa! Calm down!" I ignored him and continued to swing the stick. "Hey! Andy! I was just-whoa! Babe, it was just a prank!"

"Just. A. Prank?" I seethed murderously. I pointed the end of the stick at his chest, panting harshly. "I thought I was going to die!"

Fingers wrapped itself around my grip on the stick and I felt Newt's voice in my ear. "He was just being stupid, Andy," he said softly. "Put down the stick, come on."

"You!" I turned around to glare at him. "You were part of this too!" I shouted, angry tears starting to form at the corner of my eyes. His face contorted in guilt and pain. He took a step forward but I lifted the stick to his face. "Not one step closer!"

"Babe, it was just a harmless-"

"Harmless?" I screamed at Minho, who cowered back. "How can this be harmless? I thought I was insane! And it's all your fault!"

Minho raised his hands in defense, and spoke, "It wasn't just me! Clint made the voices, Ben chased you, Alby pretended to be the apparition and Chuck closed the lights!"

The Gladers behind him sighed as Minho ratted them out. I didn't care and just continued waving the stick in his face. "But it was all _your_ idea! Just because of a stupid little prank Chuck and I pulled!"

Minho stared at the tears in my eyes and looked to the floor guiltily. "Okay, I…I'm sorry. Okay? Shuck, I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" I scoffed bitterly. "That's it? Just by saying _sorry,_ I'm gonna forgive you and we'd be buddies again?"

Newt walked beside me and placed a calming hand on my shoulder. "He didn't mean to scare you like this, Andy. You know Minho. He's stupid and doesn't think things through before doing it."

"Shut up," I hissed, sending him a black look. A tear finally made it's way down my cheek and he frowned. "You're just the same. All of you."

I stared at the Gladers around me, furious and embarrassed. Just because I was the only girl wasn't a reason to treat me like shit. I wiped the tears off my cheek vigorously. The faces of guilt from the boys did nothing to make me feel better.

Minho sighed heavily and started to walk closer to me. I raised my stick again only for him to gently push it away. He looked at me with contrite eyes before saying, "I'm sorry, Andrea. Blame me, not the others. It was all me. I was just…being a slinthead. I didn't think you'd be this scared. Really, I'm…shuck it…I'm sorry, okay?"

I punched Minho in the face straightaway after his rant. He cried out in pain and staggered backwards, holding his cheek. The boys snickered around us as the ice broke and I stopped glaring. I let out a small laugh at his pain and dropped the stick.

"There's the smile," Newt smiled from beside me. Unexpectedly, he reached out to wipe a lone tear I missed. I looked away to hide my blush and wiped my face, ridding it off anymore tears.

"Okay…ow," Minho grunted, rubbing his sore cheek. "Are we even now?"

"Not yet," I said, crossing my arms. "I'll let you know when we're even."

"Great, I'm looking forward to that," he nodded, wincing at the pain. "Wow, you pack a shucking strong punch. Hey, Frypan? Got any ice?"

The cook snorted. "Even if I did, I'd rather see you with a bruise from a girl."

With that, one by one, the Gladers started leaving, taking the torches with them. Minho sighed in annoyance. He sent me a smile before following them, moaning for ice. Despite what happened, I smiled back.

Newt went and took a torch from Alby, whispering something to the leader before turning back to me. My eyes shone with confusion. He smiled uncertainly and said, "I'm sorry."

"You should be," I rolled my eyes. "You pretended to be asleep while I was bathing in fear."

He grinned. "You really wanted me to follow you to the bathroom?"

"I was scared, shuck-face," I punched his chest lightly, making him laugh. "I thought you were apologizing."

"Oh, I am," he said, slowly taking my hand. I looked at it, feeling the blood rise to my face. Newt chuckled and started pulling me along with him. "Come on, I want to show you something."

Smiling, I asked, "Is this a way of making me forgive you?"

"Maybe," he smiled back.

* * *

><p>Newt brought me to a wall near the North door. He remained quiet throughout the whole walk, refusing to answer any questions.<p>

As we got closer to the wall, he lifted the torch so I could get a clearer look. Of course, in the dark it was hard to make things out—mostly when everything was grey—but when I strained my eyes, I made out words on the wall. Every word spelled out a name and were written in different calligraphy.

I saw Newt's name write under Alby's and the other names of the Gladers carved into the wall. Minho, Chuck, Winston, Gally, Clint, Frypan and other Gladers had their name carved on the wall. There were so many. I read every one of the names, and noticed that a few had slashes through them. When I saw George's name, I concluded that they were the dead ones.

I had to force myself to stop looking at them to ask Newt, "What is this?"

"This is the Gladers wall," he said proudly. "Every shank who ever came up in that box has their name here."

The beaming smile on Newt's face proved how special the wall was, and I had to smile too. "Wow, that's a lot," I breathed out, gazing back at the wall in amazement. "So why am I here?"

He grinned and twisted his hand into the sling bag he always carried around. He pulled out a sharp blade knife and handed it to me. "_Your_ name is yet to be engraved on that wall."

"Seriously?" I asked, taking the knife from him excitedly.

"You're one of us, greenie," he said sincerely, flashing me a winsome smile.

"_Andy_," I corrected automatically, despite paying my attention to the wall. "It's Andy."

Newt chuckled and leaned against the wall. "Andy."

"There you go," I grinned and started to walk closer to the wall.

I traced my fingers around the names, feeling how deep their engravings were. I found an empty spot right above Winston's name and started poking the concrete. I pressed the blade into the wall and dragged it down, creating a line. It was barely seeable so I kept grating it up and down until it was deep enough and could be seen.

Smiling, I continued with my other alphabets. When I reached my final letter, it was outside of the expanse of light emitting from the torch. My name was longer than most Gladers—except for Winston—so I took up a lot of space.

"Can you come closer, Newt? I lost the light," I said. Newt shuffled closer, holding the torch out for me to see. Unfortunately, the torch wasn't close enough. "Closer."

Newt walked closer, bending slightly to see my name. The torch's light was limited though, and I sighed. "Newt, do you see where the blade is?" I asked, pointing at the dark side of the wall.

He walked to the other side and held the light out. I saw a clear view of my name and the blade. I smiled and started to finish my carving when I heard him say behind my ear, "If you wanted me close, you could've just said so."

I gave Newt an incredulous look to which he responded by laughing. It was only then I realized how close we were. He was standing right beside me, his shoulders touching mine. When I turned to look up at him—since I was slightly shorter, only _slightly_—I saw that he was already facing down, smirking. I swiftly turned away when I noticed that our faces were only inches apart.

"Careful, Newt. I'm holding a knife."

Newt gave a soft chuckle. I tried to cover my blushing face with my hair, focusing on my last letter. I finished the _A_ with a frame to cover my name, separating it from the others. Staring at my engraving with satisfaction, I smiled.

"Nice penmanship," Newt remarked. "The frame's probably the girliest thing to add."

"I _am _a girl," I scoffed.

Newt smirked, taking the knife away from me; his fingers lingering just a few seconds more than it should. "I've noticed."

My lips broke into a grin all of a sudden, and I didn't even know why. Newt was just so…charming that it was funny. Or maybe I was just weird. I couldn't help the fluttering of the butterflies in my stomach, though.

"So I carved my name," I stated, looking back at the wall to avoid an awkward situation.

"So you have," he retorted amusedly.

I started wringing my fingers and bouncing lightly on my feet. "So what are we doing here?"

"I don't know, you tell me. What _are_ we doing here?" he retorted, grinning coyly.

Laughing, I turned to look at him. "I'm…not sure."

"I'm not sure either," he replied, the grin still etched on his face.

I rolled my eyes at his ambiguous answer, smiling. Newt's attractive grin drew me in and I found myself staring at his face, taking in every part of it. His dark eyes twinkled slightly by the fire and the quirk of his lips made it look all the more…tempting.

_Okay, where the hell did that come from?_ I asked myself, but didn't really bother.

Newt suddenly leaned in closer, and by impulse, I did too. Only, I didn't expect, "So you _do _want to kiss me?"

Pulling back briskly, I stared wide-eyed at Newt, my mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish. "You…I didn't…but it…you…" I tried to find words to retort his accusation but none came out. His laughter made me snap my mouth shut and punch him in his shoulder—not harshly.

"You are…" I paused, trying to find the right words. "Impossible, Newt. Absolutely impossible."

I repressed a smile from stretching my lips and turned around to walk away. Newt chuckled softly and pulled me back my arm. I lifted an eyebrow at him. He rolled his eyes, smiling.

"I didn't mean for you to turn away, did I?" he asked.

Deciding that it was time for payback, I retorted, "I don't know. Did you?"

Newt's smile turned into an impish grin. He stepped closer, leaving no space between our bodies. He leaned his head down, his nose lightly grazing mine. My eyes instantly snapped downward, only for him to lift my chin boldly. Once again, I was pulled into his mesmerizing eyes.

"There's one thing you forgot," he said, his warm breath on mine.

I bit my lips nervously before asking, "And what's that?"

He released my gaze to look down at my lips before going back to my eyes. The corner of his mouth curled upwards. "You didn't ask me if _I _wanted to kiss_ you_."

"I didn't know I had to do that," I said, purposely taking my time to trail a finger up his arm. When his eyes darkened, I grinned. "So…do you?"

As his answer, he lowered his lips down to mine. I did the same.

Before they even grazed each other though, a voice interrupted.

"Hey, guys."

I jumped back from Newt, alarmed as I turned to look at our intruder. Newt let out a heavy, annoyed growl as he shined his flaming torch to the boy. I looked closely to see the one and only, "Chuck?"

The chubby boy waved enthusiastically. "Minho sent me to see what was taking you so long," then, he paused to look at us curiously. "What were you doing so closely?"

"I was carving my name," I said a little too quickly, pointed to the wall behind us. "Then I accidently stabbed it too hard and got some…concrete…in my eyes."

Chuck's face turned confused. "You got…concrete in your eyes?"

Newt snorted, holding back a laugh. I realized how stupid it sounded before saying. "_Particles_ of concrete. Dust."

"Oh!" Chuck smiled, like he understood. "Must've been painful."

This time, Newt glared at the boy and answered. "Oh, it was. _Very_."

Kicking his limped feet, I smiled widely at Chuck. The lights in the distance were starting to turn off so I said, "Won't you look at that. Everyone's going to bed. We should probably be going too," I faked a yawn and ruffled Chuck's curly hair affectionately. "See you tomorrow, Chuck."

"Okay, bye!" he said, watching me walk off.

Not a second later, Newt was beside me. The torch's flame was still bright and it glowed over his face, making him look all the more attractive. I smiled at the thought and looked away. Newt caught my smile however, and asked, "What?"

"Nothing," I answered.

We walked back to the Homestead in comfortable silence. He placed the torch on a holder by the side of the building and led me inside. As we walked through the doorway, he bent down closely behind me, making me stiffen.

"So, do you still need help with that concrete in your eyes?" he whispered teasingly in my ear.

I nudged his ribs with my elbow, trying not to smile.

* * *

><p><strong>This is probably the longest chapter I've written. I contemplated removing the last scene with Newt and Andy but then figure…ah, just leave it be. So there is going to be a time skip after this, to speed things up and get ready for Thomas's arrival!<strong>

**LovelyNova: Thanks for reviewing! We'll see who Andrea ends up with… *grins***

**NereatjeD: Thanks for loving it! Hope you keep up with that! :)**

**Lottielue1: Thanks for the long review. It made my day! Keep hoping for Minho! Just because she seems chummy with Newt doesn't mean that all hope is lost! I still a lot planned! :)**

**FrenchTifa: Small comments? Compared to the others, you're one of the lengthy reviewers, and I appreciate that! Thanks for commenting about Chuck's relationship with her. I'm trying to build their bro-sis relationship. Hope you liked this on! :)**

**IvyMoore: Thanks for reviewing! The first reviews for each chapter always makes me smile. Oh, and I didn't forget about Newt…how could I? :)**

**Guest (Mindylover): Thanks for liking it! Keep on hoping for Minho, I promise I'll do something with them both. Just because Newt gets all the girls, doesn't mean he will in this fic too…hopefully. :)**

**Thanks for reading :)**


	7. Homestead 2 & Food Fights

**Disclaimer: I am not James Dashner**

* * *

><p><span>TGITG Chapter 7: Homestead 2.0 &amp; Food Fights<span>

"_Why are we doing this, Terry?" I asked a dark-haired girl. She sighed and spun in her chair._

"_I don't know, Andy. I really don't," she answered solemnly._

_The papers in my hands were then placed on a desk, and I started scribbling on it furiously. "Have you started on the Trials?"_

"_Not yet," she shook her head. "But Tom and I are thinking of a Maze."_

"_A maze?" I repeated, smiling. "That's really smart."_

"_And you?"_

_I let out a heavy breath, resting my head on the papers. "I don't understand what she meant by monsters, but I'll figure something out."_

"_Course you will," the black-haired girl giggled. "You always do."_

_A pause reached out to cloud over us, until she broke it. "Andy?"_

"_Hm?_

"_Andy?"_

"_What?"_

_"Andy!"_

"Do I have to do this everyday?" a voice complained, exasperated. "Andy?"

The dream slowly disappeared from my mind as I reached out to remember it. I wanted to remember. The dream was the closest thing I had to memories. However, it was all being sucked away, and nothing else remained but the name of the girl—Terry. Her face slowly vanished as I tried my hardest for my sleepy mind to memorize it.

Then, the shaking started. Just like that, the dream completely escaped my head as if the shaking shook it all away.

"Andy, come on," Newt whined. "How are you able to sleep like you're dead?"

I huffed in irritation and snapped my eyes open, wincing from the light pouring in. "How are you able to annoy me every single morning?"

"It's my job," he shrugged, smiling. "Has been for the past two weeks."

Oh, I forgot to mention. I've been in the Glade for two weeks. Everyday seemed to get better for me, and I already knew most of the Gladers. Well, I didn't know them like I knew the back of my hand, but I do know their names. I even urged Chuck to make friends with the other younger Gladers.

After the prank they pulled on me two weeks ago, the Gladers had treated me nicely. Frypan gave me easy duties like chopping vegetables and cooking soup. At first, it was gratifying—since I could always leave the kitchen earlier than anyone else—but after a week, it got to the point where I had to beg him to let me cook.

Clint also apologized for taking part and making the voices. I was reluctant in forgiving him at first, but after he refused to treat Minho's bruise from my punch, we became friends. We even hung out once and he told me all about how he made the voices. He whispered them behind me at breakfast and dinner, tried to keep close without me noticing, and also whispered when I was asleep. I gave him a shove when he told me how proud he was that the voices actually spooked me. It was very surprising how easily we got along, since I thought he hated me. Turned out, he just held a small grudge against me for taking his seat at the table with Newt, Alby and the others. He was over it already.

The other Gladers like Winston, Alby, Gally and Ben; I forgave easily because they didn't really do much. Sure, Alby pretended to be an apparition, but I couldn't stay mad at the Leader. He was…the _Leader_. Gally was already building an accommodation for me and Winston was just too nice. Ben apologized for chasing me in the forest, and even tried to flirt with me a few times, but Minho took care of that.

Oh—Minho! How could I forget?

I refused to talk to the Keeper of the Runners after that night, and ignored him whenever he tried to strike up a conversation or poke me—just to see if I was annoyed. Everyday, he brought me food and water at breakfast so I wouldn't have to go take it by myself. It was flattering, but I thought I'd let him sweat out a bit. He whined for days until I actually started talking to him. His bruise vanished after two days, which annoyed me. I haven't fully forgiven him though, and only talked to him when it was necessary or when I was bored.

Chuck was an entire different story. He apologized the next day, with a huge smile on his face. Of course with him being Chuck, I couldn't stay mad. Especially when he made me a bracelet. It was only made with thin ropes he took from Gally's leftover equipment. It wasn't the prettiest and most fashionable piece of jewelry in the world, but the handmade bead with a smiley face carving meant a lot to me.

"Oi, Andy? You still here or have you learnt to sleep with your eyes opened?"

Then there was Newt.

The blond boy was the same annoying person in the morning, but he would always get flirty elsewhere. He would make flirty comments and tease me whenever I spaced out. Even when we were alone, in the room or at the Deadheads just wasting time, he would turn touchy and unexpectedly whisper things in my ear. Of course, I encouraged him and we'd always just laugh it off afterwards. I'd never tell him, but I kind of liked his flirty side.

"Or are you just staring at my overly handsome face?"

I rolled my eyes, smiling. "Keep dreaming, Newt."

I pushed his grinning face away from mine and started to get ready for the day. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I combed my hair with my fingers and wiped my face with my hands. I rummaged through the bag the Creators sent with me and pulled out a clean shirt. My other capris was missing, and I sighed, knowing that Chuck hasn't sent them back to me. He usually sent me my clothing back quickly, right after it dried because my clothes were limited, but for some reason, he hadn't yet.

Staring at the only pair of shorts I had, I groaned inwardly. Not having a choice, I took it out. I looked behind me to see that Newt was still in the room, lying nonchalantly on the hammock.

"Newt," I called.

"Hm?"

"I need to change," I said, holding up my clothes. "Get out."

His face twisted into a sly smirk and he replied, "Why? You've seen me change before."

I rolled my eyes, trying not to blush as I remembered him coming into the room a few days ago and suddenly changing without any word to me whatsoever. "I actually had the decency to _not_ look," I answered, crossing my arms. "You, on the other hand, I don't trust."

"Ouch," he said, faking a pout. "So much for being a trustworthy roommate."

Holding back a smile, I gave him a stern look. "Out, Newt."

"Okay, fine," he sighed dramatically. "I'll go. Roommates aren't important any more, I know. Changing means a lot more. Just remember that this _is _my room, and I can kick you out anytime. And when I kick you out, you're going to be left out in the Glade with all the other nasty shanks. Then, you'll be knocking on my door and begging for me to forgive-"

"Slim it," I interjected, cupping his noisy mouth with my hands. Dragging him to the door, I pushed him out and smiled sweetly. "And stay out."

He swiftly placed a hand on the door, blocking it from closing. His flirty smile appeared and he asked, "Why do you want to change anyway? You look good in anything."

The corner of my lips quirked upwards in amusement. "Because unlike you and half the population of the Glade, I like to be clean."

With that, I shut the door in his face. I shook my head at his humorous antics and turned back to my clothes to change quickly. Thankfully, Newt's room was on the top floor so the window was too high for anyone to have sight of what's inside. I took my time to change, not entirely ready to start the day.

My legs felt uncomfortable at the feel of air hitting my skin—since I've always worn pants in the Glade. I pursed my lips and sighed indignantly, not having any other choice. The shorts weren't very short but it was short enough to make me feel naked. Gathering my dirty clothes and throwing them into a pile at the corner of the room, I opened the door again.

I didn't know Newt was waiting outside. Actually, I was _hoping that _he didn't wait outside. I had hoped that he would be at breakfast or meet up with Alby and the guys. Unfortunately for me, he _was _outside. And as he head the sound of the door opening, he turned around.

Both of us froze for different reasons.

Me, because I didn't want anyone to see me in shorts, despite knowing it was impossible and Newt, because he _did _see me in shorts. It one of those awkward moments I despised so very deeply. Damn the Creators.

"You're…wearing shorts," Newt breathed out, staring at my exposed legs.

I wrung my hands nervously and bounced lightly on my feet, looking at the ceiling, my shoes and everywhere else except for his face. "I didn't have anything else. My other pants hasn't been sent back to me yet."

"Well," Newt exhaled. "It looks nice."

My eyes snapped up to meet his, and I searched for anything that would make me doubt his word. Fortunately, I didn't. I smiled uncertainly and asked, "You don't think it looks weird or something? Are my legs too big?"

"No," he answered immediately, smiling. "Your legs are _fine_, really. And I meant that in both ways."

I let out a soft laugh and smiled. Wearing shorts was a strange thing for me since I never remembered wearing them before. I wasn't exactly chubby but I wasn't too skinny either, so I wasn't sure how the shorts would fit. The tiny mirror could only show much of my reflection. Me being insecure of what I would look like in them was quite a significant thing.

I was still a girl; I wanted to look _somewhat_ representable.

"Hey, yoo-hoo! Newt?" I waved my hands in front of him when he kept staring at my legs. His head snapped up and I smirked. "My face is up here."

Newt snorted. "Don't worry. I can't forget your pretty face," he smiled and rubbed his hands together. Without any warning, he grabbed my hand and pulled me down the stair. "Come on, you don't have kitchen duty this morning."

"Why?"

"It's a surprise," he answered simply.

I frowned, thinking of the _surprise _I went through a couple of weeks ago. "I've been through a few surprises and I'm really starting to not like them."

Newt laughed and confidently said, "Well, you'll love this one."

* * *

><p>I tried to coerce Newt to tell me what the big 'surprise' was, but he couldn't be swayed. So begrudgingly, I followed him, grumbling a few incoherent words along the way. Newt only laughed and persisted that the wait would be worth it.<p>

While we walked through the Glade, the passing Gladers would blink when they saw that I wasn't wearing my usual calf-length trousers. It was uncomfortable receiving the attention I received that was similar to my first day. I thought all that was finally over, but I guessed not. Every now and then, I would try to pull the hems of my shorts down lower, wishfully thinking that it could magically lengthen down to cover my knees _at least_.

That didn't happen, unfortunately.

When we were in eyeshot of the surprise, I felt my mouth fall open. We were walking in the direction of the Girl's Homestead.

And it was completed.

"Oh my god," I breathed out. "The Homestead."

"Homestead 2.0, actually," Newt chuckled. "Told you you'd like it."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I didn't say I liked it."

"Your face shows enough," he said and pulled me closer to the Homestead.

My eyes immediately examined the marvelous Homestead as we reached the place. I grinned at the big size, the perfectly attached wooden walls, and the two windows on each side of the door, showing parts of the inside. I let a giggle of excitement escape my lips as I bounced in my spot, excited that it was finished and that I could move in.

For the past two weeks, I haven't been keeping track of the Homestead-in-progress. It totally slipped my mind that I was going to have a place of my own. Of course, I knew that Gally and the Builders were building it and kept me informed every now and then, but I thought it was going to be a few more weeks until it completed, so I didn't think much of it.

I couldn't believe I didn't look at the place everytime I walked past it.

I saw Alby, Gally and Minho standing by the door. They turned around when they heard Newt's footsteps and mine.

"Hello Newt, Andrea," Alby nodded at each of us, in a manner only he—as a leader—could. He turned to me and gave one of his rare genuine smiles. "As you can see, Gally and the Builders have finished building the Homestead: version two."

"I see that. I totally see that. It's impossible for me to _not_ see," I answered, grinning in excitement. My feet bounced lightly, urging me to go run in to scour the place. "It looks amazing! Can I see inside? Please?"

Minho smiled, amused at my eagerness. "Well, you seem excited."

"Of course I am! I have my own place!" I squealed, jumping enthusiastically. "It's great. Greater than great! It's magnificent! And the best part is I can finally sleep alone!"

"Wow, rooming with Newt was that bad?" he raised an eyebrow, smirking.

I nodded, feigning a look of despair. "Yeah, he snores every single night. It's just…awful."

"Oi!" Newt scowled from beside me. "I'm right here, shuck-face."

"I know that," I replied, smiling happily. "Now can I see inside? Please?"

Alby and Gally shared an amused look before Alby jerked his head to the opened door. "Go on in."

I let out a cheery squeal, jumping and clapping my hands together before running into the Homestead. The first thing I saw to my left was a moderately empty space, with a table in the middle and two chairs by the side—must be the lounge area. The window in the wall showed me the Glade and the boys walking and working. I looked behind me to the right side of the Homestead and found some cupboards and shelves. Skipping over to them, I opened the cupboards to see supplies—folded hammocks, ropes, sleeping bags and one round mirror.

My smile never left my face as I walked through the Homestead. In the middle of both the areas was a narrow corridor. I walked down the path to see two doors on each side and one door at the end. Each door even had different carvings on them. Opening one door on the right, I saw a huge empty space that was bigger than the two spaces in front—probably fit for two or three girls. A small, sturdy table was present by the corner. Besides that, nothing else could be seen. Concluding that the other three doors would show the same thing, I rushed to the door in the middle.

The door had a huge engraving at the top of it—my name. I laughed out in joy and touched the letters lightly. For some reason, I thought that everything in the new Homestead was fragile. I opened the door and smiled when I saw the inside.

A hammock was hung at the corner of the room—just like how it was in Newt's. I saw a shelf on the opposite side of the room—not sure what it was for since I only had little pieces of clothing. I smiled anyway and twirled delightedly in the middle of the room. I felt like a little kid in a candy store.

"Oh, so you're a ballerina, now?"

I stopped spinning and face Newt happily, a beaming grin adorning my face. "Yes," I answered cheekily and laughed. "I love this place."

Newt took a moment to scan the room, slowly walking to my side. "Nice room," he remarked. "Not very different from mine."

"You're forgetting the best part," I snorted excitedly—not sure how that turned out—and twirled around again. "It's my room! My _own _room."

"You seem to be very happy that you're moving out of my room," he said, a charming smile gracing his face.

I scoffed and shoved him playfully. "Oh stop complaining. You're getting your hammock back."

"Yeah," Newt nodded, crossing his arms. He bent down to my ear and said, "But I'm losing my roommate, though."

His breath hitting the back of my ear sent shivers down my neck, and I turned to him and grinned. "Oh stop it," I giggled and punched his shoulder. "It's not like I'm moving across the country or something. We live in the Glade with walls trapping us in for god's sake."

"Well, there _is _that," Newt smiled and bent down, capturing my eyes in an intense stare. "But then, instead of seeing your lovely face every morning," he paused, lifting a finger to brush against my cheek. I slowly smiled, realizing that he was doing it again. "I only get to see an empty room."

I let the stare go on for a few more moments before laughing softly. Newt chuckled too as I said, "Newt, you are so-"

"Charming? Alluring? Seductive?" he interjected and smiled, lifting his eyebrows coyly.

"Cheesy!" I said, shaking my head in amusement. "And ridiculous."

Newt rolled his eyes, smirking. "But you like it though."

"Do I?" I feigned a quizzical face as he leaned down, smiling cockily.

His hands slowly took mine as he teasingly said. "I'm sure you do."

Just like two weeks ago, he was so close that I felt his breath on mine. My head snapped up to stare at him, smiling gently. Surprisingly, nothing felt awkward. He leaned in, eyes starting to close, just as I did. Not that I would ever tell him, but I waited two weeks for it to happen, since the last close call.

We were so close, really. Just a split second was in it took if it wasn't for—

"Knock, knock," a voice interrupted.

We both quickly jumped apart. Newt's eyes snapped to the door instantly and he let out a low, disappointed groan that sounded a lot like, 'again?' I spun around to see Minho leaning casually against the door, a mocking smile on his face.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked, unamused.

"No," I shook my head, smiling nervously. "Not at all. We just…I mean, uh, I just-"

"Had concrete in your eyes?" he offered sarcastically.

I blinked, remembering that I said that to Chuck two weeks ago. My mouth gaped to find words to speak but nothing came out. Eventually, I just let out an uncertain laugh and walked to the door.

"I'm gonna go…thank Gally," I said before rushing off.

Perhaps if I had decided to stick around for a minute, I would've seen the dirty looks the two boys exchanged.

* * *

><p>As I walked out of the door, I heard footsteps quickly catching up to mine. I stepped off the cemented floor of the Homestead and onto the grassy ground when Minho suddenly appeared from behind me.<p>

"Hey," he said, his hands in his pockets.

I smiled at his unusually short greeting. His trademark '_babe' _was also undetectable. "Hi."

"You're wearing shorts," he remarked. "Looks good."

I laughed at that and nodded. "Yes, I am. And thank you."

He opened his mouth to say something but then closed it. I found it strange that he was reluctant to talk. Normally, he just blasted of whatever he wanted to say like a laser. I elbowed his arm when he sighed and looked away.

"Hey, what's going on?" I asked.

"So what's up with you and Newt?" he asked quickly. Like he just realized what he inquired, he scratched the back of his head and looked at the suddenly interesting grass.

I laughed at his question, shaking my head. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Minho rolled his eyes. "If I came in a little later, you guys would've been sucking faces off."

Blushing at Minho's bluntness, I averted my gaze to my shoes. It was dirty, since it was the only pair of shoes I owned. "I don't know…maybe?"

"Maybe what? Maybe you'd be sucking faces?" he snorted, though I couldn't help but hear the bitter tone in his voice.

"No," I shook my head, not knowing where I was even going with the conversation. "Um, maybe there's something…I-I don't even know," I shrugged. "It's just weird. We're weird."

Minho nodded, staying silent. After a minute, he asked, "Do you like him?"

"What?" I gaped incredulously. "Why are you even asking that?"

"Just because," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "So are you gonna answer?"

I bit my lips, not knowing what answer would please him. Truth was that I _did _like Newt. Maybe it was just a stupid little crush, but I liked him. His teasing attitude and smiles always seemed to brighten up my day, as cliché as it sounds. However, would Minho like it if I said yes?

For some reason, I decided to say, "No."

"No?" he asked again, raising his eyebrows skeptically.

I shook my head for confirmation. "Nope. I don't like him, wait, of course I like him—he's my friend. But I don't like him like _that_. Not at all."

"…Really?"

"Really."

Minho stared at me expressionlessly, so I smiled. He narrowed his eyes, making me roll mine. I was starting to get tired from his interrogation about Newt. Before he could open his mouth, I quickly spoke to avoid anymore Newt-related questions.

"So why are you here? Shouldn't you be running?"

Minho's suspicion completely disappeared as I asked the question. His stony face turned into his usual upbeat grin. "I don't run on Wednesdays, remember? It's the only day off I get, babe."

"Oh, yeah," I frowned. I rolled my eyes as I remembered the incident that took part. "How could I forget? It was the day you pranked me two weeks ago."

"What? You're still talking about that?" Minho asked incredulously. I narrowed my eyes at his indifference. "Oh, _come on_. That was like…a long time ago!"

"Two _weeks_ ago," I said, glaring at him. "And yes, I'll always remember the day you made me think that an evil spirit was trying to kill me."

Minho stared at me disbelievingly. "But…you punched me! And I brought you food, and water and…and I've been nice to you!"

"So you're saying that if I _wasn't_ mad at you, you _wouldn't_ have been nice to me?" I raised an eyebrow. "You'd be mean?"

"No!" Minho denied. "I'm always a nice person."

I scoffed. "Yeah, it was so _nice_ of you to make me think I was insane."

"Really? You can't still be mad about that?"

"Oh no," I smiled sardonically. "I'm just _thrilled_ that you got the other Gladers to help you get your revenge on me _nicely_. Oh, and did I mention thinking that I was going to _nicely _die in the bathroom? No? Well, I did. And it was so _nice _that I had to run to the bathroom in the dark because I thought something was chasing me. Seriously, that was the _nicest _welcoming I received, Mr. _Nice _guy."

Minho scowled at my mocking rant, crossing his arms like how a toddler would. After a few minutes, he said, "You're so mean."

I snorted. "Says the _nice _dude that pranked me."

"Oh, _come on_!"

* * *

><p>After thanking Gally and the Builders, I decided that a verbal expression of gratitude wasn't enough so I went to visit Frypan. Breakfast had already started and everyone was sitting at the benches, eating and chatting loudly. In my head, I formed plan to carry out my thankful indication towards the Builders.<p>

They completed it in just two weeks—that had to be, like, a Glade Record or something.

I found Frypan wiping his stove and determinedly bounded to him. In the kitchen, Willy and Niels were nowhere to be seen so I assumed that they were already let off the hook. I scanned the place and saw that Frypan hadn't started cooking anything for lunch. He only prepared some slices of meat to mince and put aside some vegetables.

In my head was my plan to convince him to leave lunch to me, but I wasn't sure it would turn out. I had my reasons ready though, and my extra method of sweet-talking and influencing set. Taking a deep breath, I entered the kitchen. Frypan stopped wiping his stove and looked at me when he heard me come in.

"Hi, Frypan," I greeted cheerily.

"Hello there, greenie," he answered, making me groan.

"Oh, come on. Greenie? Everyone's stopped calling me that," I whined. "Why don't you just call me by my name?"

Frypan threw the dirty rag into the sink and washed his hands. "Because you're the greenie. At least until the next one arrives."

"Okay then," I sighed, determined not to forget the real reason I was at the kitchen. "Anyways, remember a few days ago when you told me that I didn't have to cook so much and all?"

"Yeah," Frypan said. "Why?"

"Well, it's been two weeks. And I've had lots of day offs," I started slowly and smiled. "So I thought maybe I could start cooking now."

Frypan seemed to ponder on my request and finally nodded. "Okay, sure."

"No, literally. I meant…now," I said after awhile of him staring at me quizzically. "Right now."

"Say what?"

"Now. I want to start cooking now," I grinned. "I have everything sorted out in my head. Let me cook lunch."

Frypan sighed, rubbing his temples. "Greenie, I haven't even eaten-"

"On my own," I interrupted, forgetting the minor detail. "I want to cook on my own today. I mean, you guys cooked for the past two weeks with me doing nothing, so I thought this could be like a…redemption."

The Keeper stared at me like I just grew three heads. "You want to cook, by yourself, for…_forty_ Gladers?"

"Yup," I nodded enthusiastically. "Can I?"

"You're shuckin' me," he said. "What's goin' through that klunk brain o' yours?"

"A lot," I answered. "But right now, it's how to get you to let me cook."

Frypan sighed, rolling his eyes. "Greenie, I know you're happy that your shuck Homestead is completed, but ya don't have to get overexcited. Cooking for the whole Glade is hard work, and you'll need some serious help. So why don't you wait for me to finish eating, then gather up the two other shanks and _then_ start cooking. Alright?"

"But I want it to be a surprise!" I complained. "Please, Fry? Just let me try and cook for the Glade this one time? Please…?"

"Green-"

"Please, please, please, please, please, please, please?" I started pleading speedily. "I want to cook, let me cook. Please? You, Niels and Willy can relax for once and enjoy food that none of you made. Please, Frypan? Please…?"

Frypan stared at me sternly. "No."

I huffed in annoyance. "But Fry-"

"I said no, greenie," he repeated, walking to the door to go get his breakfast. "Wait for us all to finish breakfast, alright?"

I stared at Frypan's back grumpily as he made his way out of the door. He turned around to wait for me to come out so he could lock up the kitchen. An idea suddenly formed in my head as I walked over to him. My eyes caught the metal latch on the door and I hid a smirk.

"Frypan?" I called as I stood behind the doorway.

"Yeah?"

"Don't hate me," I said before slamming the door shut in his face. I quickly fastened the metal latch on my side of the door and sighed happily.

Knocks suddenly pounded on the door, getting louder and louder each time. Frypan's yells of my names were heard but I only winced at his volume. "Open this door, greenie!"

"You'll break your precious door if you keep on knocking like that!" I shouted to him.

Nothing was heard then. A brisk rush of footsteps made me run to the window, and I saw the head cook glaring at me. "What do you think you're doing, greenie?"

"This is me locking you out of the kitchen," I replied, grinning. "Just let me do this once, Fry. If it doesn't work out, I'll cut vegetables for the rest of my life. Deal?"

Frypan kept on glaring at me but knew that there was nothing he could do. With me _in_side and him _out_side, I was powerful. I sent him a bright, innocent smile and he sighed.

"Fine," he said. "Just this once, though. One time," I nodded at his threatening gaze. "If it doesn't work out, you'll be washing _plates _for the rest of your life."

I frowned at his bargain but realized that it was what I had to accept if I wanted to cook. I was hesitant in nodding and agreeing, since I wasn't sure how to cook for the whole Glade in time for lunch. However, I was confident that I was able, so I smiled and nodded. I extended my arm out for him to shake and he did.

"Don't embarrass me, greenie. My kitchen's name is on the line," was Frypan's last piece of advice before he left me in the kitchen.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, chef."

* * *

><p>Two hours later, I finished cooking the appetizer and main course for the Glade. It was tough at first, since I had no idea how to filter my cooking for forty people. I had to to cook almost three times when my first try only produced enough for ten people. During the whole time, no one bothered me, which I was grateful of.<p>

I started taking bowls and whisks out to cook the dessert. Placing all of the ingredients and tools on the island, I started on my dessert. A few long minutes later, I had one batter completed and ready to go. I turned to the sink to wash my hands, when a certain blond made up his mind up to show up.

"Hi, Andy," Newt's face suddenly popped out of the window, making me yelp in surprise.

"Newt," I gasped. "Don't do that."

Newt just grinned his boyish grin, and looked around the kitchen. "Frypan said you're cooking for the whole Glade alone. Are you mental?"

"No, I'm not mental," I rolled my eyes. "And FYI, I just finished two dishes without any problems. I only have one final dish left."

"Oh," he nodded, and quickly asked, "Can I help?"

I sent him an incredulous look, which he responded with an innocent shrug. He waited patiently for my answer, and I shook my head. "No."

"Why not?"

"I'll get distracted," I said before even thinking. Immediately, I felt like slapping my mouth shut.

Newt smirked, leaning against the window with his hands. "Distracted by what? My attractive face?"

"No, by teaching you how to crack an eggshell," I retorted smartly. "And I'd probably end up making dinner instead of lunch just because I have to teach you how to whisk the batter properly."

"Oh, come on," Newt sighed. "It can't be that hard."

"No, Newt," I pressed, narrowing my eyes. "I didn't even let any of the cooks in, what makes you think I'd let you?"

"Because I'm your roommate?"

"Not anymore."

Newt gasped and widened his eyes dramatically. "See? That's what I was talking about! You're pushing me away!"

I rolled my eyes, smiling at Newt's antic. "Newt, you're being melodramatic."

"If you don't let me in," he paused, grinning deviously. "I'll jump in through the window."

Scoffing, I said, "Yeah, sure. You do that."

Not realizing that he was being serious, I turned away to continue mixing the batter with some chocolate chips. Just as I was about to do that though, I heard a crash behind me. I swiftly turned around to see Newt gone and some soap containers inside the sink. I frowned and poked my head out of the window to see Newt lying on the grass.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I was trying to climb in," he huffed. "But I fell."

I raised my eyebrows and laughed. "Why do you want to come in?"

"To help."

"No ulterior motive?"

"None whatsoever," he replied, grinning. I didn't quite trust the glint in his eyes, but I sighed.

"Fine, come on in," I said and walked to the door to unlatch it.

Newt burst through the door a few seconds later and smiled. He closed the door and walked over to the island, looking at the ingredients I had. He picked up the bag of chocolate chips and scrutinized them, shaking it. I stared at him quizzically.

"What? Never seen chocolate chips before?" I asked.

"I never remembered eating them," he answered and scowled. "Frypan never served us any. The greedy shank."

Rolling my eyes, I snatched the bag away from him and placed it back on the table. "You're here to help, remember? So do as I say," I spoke and gathered the things for him to do. I chose the easiest job there was and said, "Right, we're making chocolate chip waffles, okay?"

"Waffles? Like with the syrup and all?"

"Yes. Okay, you know how to sift, right?" I asked, presenting a bag of flour and a bowl in front of him.

Newt's clueless face gave me his answer. "Sift?"

"It's…ugh, Newt," I shook my head hopelessly and proceeded to show how to sift the flour. Pouring a portion of flour onto the sieve, I gently shook it from side to side, letting it fall neatly to the bowl underneath. "There. Easy, right?"

"Yeah, looks easy," Newt nodded. He took the sieve for me and started to shake the tool, watching the finer particles carpeting below. He guffawed in astonishment and turned to me. "Andy, look! I did it!"

His excited look from only sifting flour made me laugh. "You did. Add another cup of flour and continue that, okay?"

Newt nodded and went back to sifting, watching the flour settle down underneath in amazement. I smiled at his cute childlike wonder over the job and continued to mix the egg yolks, milk, vanilla and butter carefully. I made sure not to over mix the batter and stopped after it looked perfect enough.

I set the mixture aside and turned to Newt, intending to tell him that it was time to whisk the flour with baking powder and salt. However, what I saw made me stop in my tracks and laugh out loud.

"Stop laughing," said a flour-covered Newt. I trained my eyes on him again, trying to bite my lips and close my mouth but ended up laughing all over.

Newt's face and hands were lightly covered in flour. He even had patches off it on his hair, which made me laugh harder. The sieve in his hands was steady, but the flour was all clumped together one one side. The fine dust in the bowl wasn't so fine anymore—it even had sieve prints and fingerprints on them. His face looked like he had problems with wearing powder.

"Sorry, Newt," I choked out when I saw him scowling. "It's just…nobody gets flour over themselves by sifting. _Sifting_—you're not even whisking yet!"

"This…_thing_," he spat moodily, lifting up the sieve. "Is not working! I tried shaking it but the flour all went up to one side. So I tried shaking it sideways, but then it ended up falling in the bowl," his passionate explanation was accompanied with hand motions, making me bite my lips to refrain from laughing again. "So it wasn't my fault! It's this blasted thing!"

"It's called a _sieve_, Newt," I started, taking the tool from his hands. "And it's in perfect condition. You're the one doing it wrong."

Newt opened his mouth to retort but I shook my head, shushing him.

"Look," I said, scooping up some flour and started sifting. "You have to do it gently or else it'll all group together on one side. And try switching between up and down, to side to side, and up and down again."

I heard a grumble come from Newt as he huffed, brushing some flour of his shirt. "Why do you need to sift anyways? It'll be mixed later on."

"Because I don't need it clumping together in lumps when I whisk it," I answered. "It makes the batter smoother."

Newt rolled his eyes and stared murderously at the sieve. "Bloody sieve. Making my job harder."

I laughed at Newt's grumpiness over sifting and placed the sieve down. Staring at his face and hair, I grinned. Even though he tried to dust himself off, nothing was working. The flour stuck to his face and neck, and also to his shirts. He wiped off his hands on his pants, only to have them turn white from the powdery substance.

"What are you laughing at?" he asked when he saw me trying to suppress a laugh.

"Your face," I said, giggling. "It's funny."

Newt narrowed his eyes. Before I could see what he was up to, he scooped some flour from the bowl and blew it at my face. I gasped in shock, staring at his hand in disbelief.

"Did you just-"

"Yup," he replied, smirking. "Now you're face is funny too."

My gaping mouth transformed into a grin as I reached for the used whisk behind me. I gently rolled it over his face, letting the excess, sticky mixture glue itself to his face. Newt blinked in surprise and jumped back, making me laugh.

"There, now you're just freaking _hilarious_," I mocked out in satisfaction.

Newt's shocked face slowly faded, replaced with a mischievous one. "You asked for it," he said lowly.

Suddenly, I felt a mass of flour hit the side of my head. I cried out in surprise as I felt the powder on my hair. Looking at a laughing Newt, I smirked wickedly. I smashed two empty eggshells I broke earlier on his head, rubbing in the residue of the egg whites around his face. Newt didn't look surprised though, and only poured a spoon of something slimy and sticky in my face. When I felt the substance roll down my cheek, I realized that it was the egg whites I had separated earlier.

"Newt!" I shrieked, wiping it off my face. "Those were the egg whites!"

"And those were egg shells," he retorted, smirking.

I stared at his amused face for a moment before throwing all of my perseverance out the window. Laughing, I poured the mixture I just whisked into his hair, watching as it dripped below to the floor in pleasure. Newt chuckled after getting over his shock and started reaching for things to throw at me.

Everything in the kitchen that was within our reach were used as weapons to attack each other. I had used a bowl of dirty water by the sink and splashed it onto Newt's face and in return, he poured the extra remains of the egg whites onto my shirt. We were both screaming and laughing at the food fight we were having, despite basically wasting all the supplies.

"There you go," Newt chuckled as he poured some cocoa powder over me.

"Newt, stop it!" I shouted, albeit heartily, when I ran out of things to throw at him. Newt didn't listen to me though and only kept on pouring mixtures at me. "Stop, Newt! You're wasting!"

My joyful laughter assured him that it was still okay to hit me with the mixtures and ingredients he could reach for. After the mixture was finished, he decided to just take the bag of flour, scoop up handfuls, and throw it to my face. I backed up, trying to shield myself but he kept throwing it everywhere he could.

I felt my back hit the counter and froze, knowing that I was a goner. Newt's grin widened, if it was possible, and he turned the bag upside down. Flour poured over my head as I tried to run away, but Newt only laughed and held me close, continuing shaking the remainders of the flour out.

"Okay, okay," I gasped out when the flour stopped spilling. I looked up at him and laughed. "You win!"

Newt threw the empty bag of flour to the floor and laughed. We both panted from the energy-consuming food fight we were in and laughed like we were insane.

"You do realize that we just wasted everything for the waffles, right?" I asked, looking up at him and smiling. Newt just continued laughing. "Frypan is gonna kill us."

"Kill you, not me," he chuckled. "I'm second-in-command. He can't do anything to me."

I rolled my eyes as he smiled.

I just realized how close we were then. He was literally pressed up against me, his hands holding each side of my shoulder to steady me while he poured the flour on me just now. Our faces were close to and when he talked, I could feel his breath on mine. He rested his forehead on mine for no reason and closed his eyes, breathing in deeply.

Newt's hand suddenly lifted and started to brush some flour out of my hair. I watched him, biting my lips to keep myself from smiling too widely. The flour was too deep in my hair and he ended up ruffling it to get it out.

"Stop it, Newt," I laughed, swatting his hand away. He removed his forehead and chuckled. Thinking about how my flour-adorned face was looking, I asked, "I must look like a freaking geisha right now, huh?"

"You do," Newt nodded, lowering his face to mine. "Only, geishas have red lips."

"Oh yeah?"

He nodded, lowering his hands down and holding mine. I didn't know why, but he liked to do that—hold my hand. I didn't complain though; I liked it too. "I can do that for you, y'know. Make your lips red," he breathed out.

My smile didn't break as I released a short laugh. "And how are you gonna do that?"

"You know how."

I let my other hand trail down his chest, pressing lightly on it. I heard his sharp intake of breath as I slowly feathered my hand in his hair. "Is this supposed to be the part where we kiss?"

"Third times the charm, right?" he said quickly before closing the gap between our lips.

His firm lips molded perfectly into mine. The kiss started out gentle, like he was asking if it was okay. I froze for an instant, letting the feeling of his warm lips scorch through my body before I kissed him back. His lips were firm, warm and appetizing at the same time and I loved it. My hand at the back of his head pushed him lower, trying to deepen the kiss.

Newt growled out softly and pressed his body to mine. His tongue slipped through my parted lips and I melted and let out a shivery breath. I gently tugged on the strands of his hair and kissed his warm lips passionately. My heartbeat felt like it was drumming in my ears as my pulse accelerated with every soft kiss he planted at the side of my mouth. His lips lightly teased over my lips, lingering there.

"Bloody hell," he breathed out huskily, his hand stroking the side of my face.

Breathing erratically, I smiled and hungrily captured his lips again. His mouth moved against mine with hot urgency, making my knees feel weak. As if he read my mind, he easily lifted me and sat me on the counter. I landed on the surface with a heavy huff, and immediately pressed my lips back to him. Both my hands weaved through his hair, which were surprisingly soft. I tugged on them, finding Newt's hisses exciting.

"Newt," I managed between breaths. "M-maybe we should stop."

I didn't get an answer when he fiercely explored my mouth, his tongue movements sending jolts through my body. I let out a breathy moan as it continued and wrapped one foot around him, grazing my bare foot against his leg. Newt groaned lowly and started leaving my mouth reluctantly.

"Someone could come in," I gasped as he placed his lips on my neck, trailing wet kisses up and down. It was hard to focus on anything else besides the feeling of his hot mouth on my skin. I rested my lips against his ear and whispered, "You didn't lock the latch."

"Let them come in," he said hoarsely before coming back to my lips. I kissed him fervently, the part of me that waited for two weeks crawling out. The gentleness we started with was gone and we were passionately making out on Frypan's counter. I knew I should've been more aware, but I was right—Newt was distracting me.

He distracted me so much—in the greatest way possible—that I didn't even hear the door opening and the disbelieving gasp of the person that caught us.

"What the klunk, you shanks?"

Newt's lips left mine suddenly as he turned around in surprise. My eyes snapped up to see a furious Frypan, carefully scrutinizing the state of his kitchen and the two guilty Gladers. I quickly jumped off the counter, with Newt steadying me. I was still slightly dizzy from the kiss. My eyes scanned the disgusting floor—stained with flour, eggs, and many more ingredients.

Then, my eyes landed at the wide open door where Chuck was standing, wide-eyed.

I felt my eyes bulge in alarm but Chuck already scurried off, to god-knows-where. I just hoped it wasn't to a particular Asian runner.

"Oh, hullo, Fry," Newt waved.

"Don't '_hullo, Fry_,' me, Newt," Frypan glared. "When I told you about her, I expected you to help her _bake_, not _make _out!"

"Sorry, Frypan. Really. It was all my…fault," I said, even though I wasn't the one who started throwing things. "We _were_ baking, though."

"At first…then we got a little carried away," Newt said, scratching his head sheepishly.

Frypan snorted, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, no shit."

I bit my lips, knowing that he would never give me any chance to cook by myself after this. "I'm sorry, Frypan, again. This is a mess, I know. I'll clean it and-"

"Damn right you'll be cleaning it," the head cook interjected. "Both of you. When I get back, I wanna see this shuck kitchen _spotless_, you get me?"

Newt and I nodded.

"And…get those klunkin' ingredients of your face, seriously," he continued, shaking his head. "You look a griever just puked you out after indigestion."

Newt let out a small laugh until Frypan narrowed his eyes at him. He coughed to cover himself, making me smile. Frypan sent us both glares and gestured to the whole room. "Clean," he said sternly and walked out the door. "And no makin' out!"

I blushed at his holler, glad that the flour was covering my face. As soon as Frypan walked out and closed the door, I released a breath I didn't even know I was holding. Newt sighed and started to wipe some ingredients off his face.

"Well that just…happened," Newt smiled, turning to me.

I let out a laugh, pushing him in his chest. "This did too. Look at this mess."

Newt and I glanced at the battlefield that was the kitchen. Before I knew it, Newt was bending down to pick up the empty bags and bowls. I joined him in cleaning, placing the dirty tools in the sink. The floor was stained with flour, cocoa powder, slimy egg whites and batter, so I knew I had to wash it later on.

After we finished cleaning up, placed everything in the sink and threw the thrash away, I looked at Newt's appearance at laughed.

"What?" he asked.

"You should go take a shower. You look horrible," I said, flicking a chocolate chip off his shoulder.

Newt huffed out a laugh and brushed some strands of hair out of my face. "You should go look in the mirror. You're worse."

"That's nice to know," I scoffed. "But really though, you _should _go. I wasn't lying when I said you'd distract me."

"Well, it was a good distraction, wasn't it?" he grinned, placing a soft kiss on the side of my lips.

I smiled. "Yeah, but you still need to go."

"What about you?"

"_I _have to finish making waffles. I'm pretty sure there are some extra supplies somewhere," I answered, pushing him towards the door. "Now go, clean yourself up. I'll meet you at lunch."

Newt smiled, letting me push him out of the kitchen. Before I could close the door though, he pulled me into another kiss, letting his lips linger for a while. I smiled against him and pulled away. I poked his chest with my fingers and laughed.

"Seriously, there are Gladers around," I said.

Newt only laughed and walked away to go wash himself. I shook my head in amusement and shut the door, wanting to finish the waffles and clean the floor quickly. After that, I hoped I could get a shower to rid the flour out of my hair.

* * *

><p>A few hours later after cooking, cleaning and showering, I made it to the dining area in clean clothes. My capris was already sent to Newt's room and I was more than happy to change into them.<p>

Throughout the day, I couldn't help but smile. The butterflies in my stomach kept fluttering like crazy whenever I would think of Newt. I even had Gladers asking me why I was always spacing out. I never answered them, but I was pretty sure they had an idea why.

When I got to the dining area, I grabbed my food—I made spaghetti—and saw Minho and Chuck at a table. Walking towards them, I saw that Minho was staring at his food, stabbing it furiously and stuffing it into his mouth. At the end of the table, Chuck flaunted a nervous expression on his face, occasionally snapping his head to Minho and back to his food. I frowned in confusion as I got to the table.

"Hey, Min," I smiled, taking a seat in front of him. "Hey, Chuck."

The pudgy boy smiled back at me, though it wasn't as wide as his usual smiles. Confusion spread through me as Minho rolled his eyes and didn't answer my greeting.

I slowly lowered my head, trying to meet his eyes. "Minho?"

"_I don't like Newt at all, Minho,_" he suddenly mocked in a high-voice, smiling scathingly at me. "Really? _Really_."

Remembering the conversation about Newt that morning, I bit my lips nervously. Minho kept his blazing gaze on me. I felt guilty for some reason all of a sudden, and looked down at my plate. I didn't dare meet Minho's vile look that was directed to me. I sighed and twisted my spaghetti on the fork, even though my appetite had started to fade.

"What?" Minho asked, raising an eyebrow at me. "Don't have anything to say after you legitimately lied?"

I frowned at his accusation. "I didn't lie…"

"Oh no, of course you didn't," he scoffed. "You just decided to twist the truth. Or maybe your brain just forgot which was yes and no. What? Pretty-boy messed it up that much?"

"Stop it," I said, starting to feel slightly angry at his insult towards Newt. "Why are you so mad?"

Minho rolled his eyes again and sneered, "Oh please."

"No, seriously. I don't get it," I snapped, frowning. "I like Newt, so what?"

I wasn't the only one surprised at how boldly I admitted it. Minho seemed surprised too. His face scrunched up in what I assumed to be pain at my confession, but it left in a split second as he started glowering at me.

"So what?" he said through gritted teeth. "I'll tell you what. I-"

"Hello," a voice interrupted. I snapped my head to my right and saw Newt smiling dazzlingly. He took a seat next to me and whispered, "And hello to you."

I didn't let Minho's angry huff bother me as I smiled back at Newt. "Hi."

"So I saw this just now," he held up a small bowl filled with smoothly mashed potatoes. "And I couldn't help but question what it was. It looks a lot like baby's food."

"It's not baby's food," I let out a soft laugh. "It's called garlic mashed potatoes. It's the appetizer."

Newt let out a small hum of approval, set the bowl down and looked at me. His eyes raked down my figure, making me blush, and he grinned coyly. "Yeah. Appetizing."

I laughed, shaking my head. I was about to go back to Minho and ask what he was trying to say before newt arrived. Unfortunately, before I could even start speaking, Minho abruptly stood up, his seat creaking against the floor loudly. His jaw was clenched as he gripped his unfinished plate tight.

"Minho, wha-"

"I'm gonna go…" he started, sending Newt a brisk, abhorring look. "…run."

My brows furrowed. "What? But today's your day off."

"Doesn't matter," he muttered angrily as he moodily left the table, throwing his plate into a basin at the end of the area noisily.

I stared at his back, watching him leave perplexedly. I never knew what his problem was against Newt and I since he didn't manage to tell me, but was it that bad that he had to leave? An unsettled feeling gnawed in my gut. I just wanted him to come back and sit, and talk to all of us like usual.

That didn't seem likely to happen.

"What's with Minho?" Newt asked curiously.

"Honestly…I don't even know," I answered, unsmiling.

* * *

><p>That evening, I found myself lying down in front of the Homestead—<em>my<em> Homestead—on the grass. Chuck and Newt were with me, lying casually with their arms spread out on the ground. Gally chose the right spot to build the building, since I also received a grassy lawn out the front.

It was almost seven, and we were peacefully watching the sky change colors after completing all our jobs. Cleaning a food fight battlefield and then cooking dinner with Frypan really drained my energy. Chuck just finished washing the bathrooms, and Newt had helped Zart at the Gardens.

After we all met, exhausted and worn out, we decided to hang out my Homestead. Unfortunately, Chuck fell to the ground before we could make it through the front door. He looked so comfortable on the grass that I immediately joined him. Newt joined in too after seeing that we were not entering the Homestead—_my_ Homestead. We lied down together in a circle—or triangle—with our heads connected and the rest of our bodies spread out all around.

Surprisingly, watching the sky colorizing itself was peaceful enough. I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes and imagining clouds. We didn't have any clouds in the Glade's sky, so it was hard to envision them floating by.

"Hey, uh, Andy?" Chuck whispered from beside me. I turned my head to look at him. He had been acting suspiciously nervous and guilty since lunch, and I didn't know why.

"Yeah?"

"I want to…say sorry."

I frowned, not understanding why he was apologizing. "Sorry for what?"

"For telling Minho," he said slowly, not looking at me. I then remembered that he was behind Frypan when Newt and I were interrupted. "I didn't mean too, really. I wanted to keep it a secret, but Minho saw me."

"What'd he do?" I asked, feeling protective over my first little friend.

Chuck's face twisted in uncertainty. "He, uh, threatened me. He said he'd throw my clothes off the Cliff if I didn't tell him what I saw."

"It's okay," I smiled at the boy. "It's not your fault. He was bound to find out sooner or later," I paused, staring back up at the sky in deep thought. "I just wonder why he's so worked up about it."

Chuck hummed back in response and went back to staring at the sky. We continued resting, breathing steadily as the sky displayed various colors of orange and light purple. I smiled at how beautiful it looked.

"Hey, Andy?" I heard Chuck's voice again.

"Yeah?"

"After we get out of the Glade," he started, making me snap my head to him. I never thought about leaving the Glade. Things seemed perfect here for me, even if I didn't know who I was before. I let Chuck continue. "…would you still be my friend?"

I blinked, deep in thought. Leaving the Glade…to what? What was our life before? I shook my head slightly, not wanting to ruin my peace with stressful questions. "Of course, Chuck. I can't ever forget my first Glade friend," I replied, smiling. "When we get back home, I'll make sure to come over to your house everyday, okay?"

"That's great," Chuck laughed. "And then maybe we could do sleepovers. Oh, and prank people in their houses! And stay up for the whole night playing games!"

Giggling at Chuck's excitement, I nodded. "And maybe we could go on a vacation. The beach? Somewhere with winter maybe? Oh, let's go to an amusement park!" I chimed in.

"Yeah! And we can win games and ride rides!"

"I want to ride the roller coaster," I grinned.

"Me too!" Chuck laughed. "And we can throw candy wrappers at the people behind us!"

I laughed and sighed, wishing that it could all come true. "One day, Chuck," I breathed out. "We'll do that one day."

"Hey, why don't we have a sleepover?" Chuck asked. "Here, at the Homestead. I mean, your Homestead."

"It's confusing, right? I know," I said. "We really need a name for this place. Something that doesn't clash with the original Homestead," I felt for Newt's face with my hand and when I found it, I shook him. "Newt? Newt? You there?"

Newt jolted awake from his slumber, yawning. He softly grabbed my hand and rested it on the grass. "Wh…what? What is it?"

I chuckled in disbelief and turned around on my stomach to look at him. "You were really sleeping?"

"The grass is soft," he answered simply. "Now what did you ask me?"

"We need a name for the Homestead," Chuck said.

Newt's face contorted in confusion. "Why? It's already called the Homestead."

"No, he meant _my _Homestead, Newt," I smiled, playing with his hair. "It gets confusing."

"Oh," Newt blinked, realizing. "Yeah, Gally said he made it in style of a ranch house…why not call it that?"

"The Ranch," I tried it, and grinned in satisfaction. "Yeah, it sounds good. The Ranch. What do you think, Chuck?"

The young boy lifted his hands in a 'thumbs up' sign, making me laugh. I continued feathering my fingers through Newt's soft hair, pulling at some strands and stroking it to smoothen them.

Newt looked up at me and smiled. "I like what you're doing to my hair," he stated randomly.

I grinned and planted a small kiss on his forehead.

* * *

><p>The sound of the Doors closing made me look to the one closest to me. I briefly wondered if Minho already made it back to the Glade. <em>Of course he has, he's the Keeper<em>, my mind whispered but I still felt some doubt in me. I let my eyes strain on the doors, keeping watch for Minho.

Finally, as the doors were just about to shut, Minho came sprinting through the doors. The humongous concrete walls instantly shut, sending a gust of wind at the Runner.

_Well, that was a close call, wasn't it_? I frowned.

"Guys, don't go anywhere," I said to Newt and Chuck and started to stand up. "I'll be back in a minute."

"Where are you going?" asked Newt.

"To check on something."

I ran off in the direction of Minho, wanting to catch up with him before he entered the Map Room. Thankfully after every run, he would slow down when he passed through the doors due to exhaustion. It made me ran faster and I ultimately caught up to him.

As I slowly jogged behind him, I tapped him on the shoulder. Immediately, he turned around with an annoyed look meant for whoever interrupted his journey to the Map Room. When he saw that it was me, his look of annoyance disappeared and was replaced by a vacant one. He ignored my smile and turned around to run back to the Map Room.

I scowled, grabbing his arm. "Minho, come on. Don't be a stranger."

"What do you want?" he asked sharply. I hid the hurt I felt and tried smiling.

It suddenly hit me that I didn't actually know why I wanted to talk to him. I felt like I needed to, since I was somehow a part of his sulky mood.

Minho sighed, slowly removing his arm from my grip. "Look, I need to go map-"

"Of course you don't. Today wasn't even your day to run," I answered.

"Doesn't mean I can just ignore the section I ran through," he retorted.

"Someone else mapped it. The Runner who was supposed to run that section?" I shrugged. Minho rolled his eyes in obvious irritation, making me huff. "Seriously, what is up with you? You're so…angry at me."

Minho looked away, rubbing his hand over his forehead. "I'm not angry at you-"

"Yeah, that's why you keep rolling your eyes and giving those 'get away from me' looks," I said heatedly, crossing my arms.

"I'm not-" Minho paused, sighing and looking at anywhere but me. After a minute of silence, with me waiting for him to say something, he asked, "Where's Newt?"

I gave him an incredulous look. "Don't change the topic!" I exclaimed, frowning. "And what's your deal with him anyways? You've been giving us the cold shoulder since lunch," I said, shaking my head. Minho sighed again, making me throw my hands up in frustration. "Just tell me what's going on, Min. I don't understand!"

"Look, I was just…being stupid, okay?" he said, nodding his head as if he was assuring himself instead of me. "It's noth-"

"It's not nothing," I cut him off briskly.

"You really like cutting people off, don't you?" Minho asked, smiling a bit.

Seeing his smile, I turned my frown into one too. "Yes," I said and raised my shoulders questioningly. "So…are you gonna tell me?" I asked. When he looked uncertain, I added, "I'm your friend, aren't I?"

Minho stared at me, his face expressionless so I couldn't read anything. After a few seconds ticked by, he exhaled heavily. "Fine," he said and looked around for anyone that might be listening in our conversation. When he saw no one, he said, "It's just…now that you're with…_Newt_," he paused, frowning.

"Keep talking," I urged, nodding.

"Now that you're with him, you'll probably be spending every minute of the day with him too," he blurted out, crossing his arms. "And it'll be hard to…y'know…talk to you. Or hang out with you, or whatever."

I tilted my head, slowly understanding. My mouth stretched into a smile. "Minho, are you saying that I…won't have time for you?"

He scratched the back of his head, his face turning slightly red with embarrassment. "I…kind of."

I laughed, making him scowl. "Of course I'm going to have time for you! You're my best friend," I said, smiling. "I'll always have time for you and Chuck. You guys mean a lot to me."

Minho smiled a small smile. "Really?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "I mean, even when I was mad at you about the prank-" I stopped when Minho groaned, saying something like '_again?_' I laughed and continued. "Even _then_, I still hung out with you. Being with Newt isn't gonna change anything."

"Okay," Minho chuckled, placing his hands on his hips like a girl would. "Maybe I have been…overreacting."

I scoffed. "Overreacting? You were like an ice queen or something. One touch and we'd be frozen solid."

Minho rolled his eyes, shoving me playfully. I laughed and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the Ranch.

"Where are you taking me?"

"The Ranch."

"The what?"

"_The Ranch_," I repeated. "It's what we call the girl's Homestead. Having two Homestead's confusing."

Minho nodded and followed me willingly. When we arrived at the front of the Ranch, Newt and Chuck were still lying down, staring at the dark sky. I approached them, smiling.

"Hey, guys," I grinned, pulling Minho along as I halted. "Look who's joining us."

Chuck and Newt turned their faces to us. Chuck smiled widely, waving at Minho. Newt, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Minho did the same, crossing his arms. I rolled my eyes and elbowed Minho, signaling him to be friendly. I walked over to Newt and gave him a look, to which he sighed despondently.

"'Lo, Minho," Newt greeted, lifting his hand in a pathetic wave.

Minho nodded at him. "Hey."

I rolled my eyes, again, as the two boys shared a flat greeting. I patted the grass next to me as I lay down. "Come on, Min. Join us being lazy."

The Runner sighed, but smiled nontheless. He walked over to us and hesitantly laid down on the ground, throwing his bag to the side. He lied between Chuck and I, staring awkwardly at the sky. I sent him a smile.

I felt a hand slip into mine all of a sudden and turned to Newt, who was on my left. Squeezing his hand, I continued to stare up at the sky, sighing happily. The four of us lay there peacefully, with no words exchanged as we gazed at the beautiful sky. Time was forgotten. It was just us.

"So, Chuck and I are planning a sleepover. Any of you interested?"

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry I had to squeeze in so much for this chapter. That's because Thomas is arriving in the next one! and the events of TMR is going to take place!<strong>

**Laurafxox: Thanks for reviewing! Your long one made my smile like I was a maniac. I'll make sure to add some more Gally in the upcoming chapters. And thanks for reviewing about Chuck too! He always gets forgotten. Hope you continue loving this! :)**

**TINKBELL45: Thanks! I'll try to shorten them…after this one.**

**Guest: I know there are so many Newt/OC fics. Keep hoping though, I'm planning something for them towards the end when they're leaving the Glade. :)**

**Newtella: There it is—the kiss! Thanks for supporting! :)**

**differentbutuniq: Ah, I love reading long reviews. You're one of those that made me smile! :) I know how it feels though, I've read some fics that I like and couldn't sleep until I finished it. Sometimes, I don't sleep at all until the next day. Thanks for your reviews on each character! And thanks also for the compliments, you made me blush…haha. Thanks again! :)**

**Guest: Thank you! I fangirl everytime I see a comment! I'll add some more Minho after this, don't worry. I know what you mean—TBS is just awesome, isn't he? :)**

**Lottielue1: Thanks for reviewing! I wanted her to hit him some more, but…I like my Minho. :) But yeah, he'd deserve it.**

**Brook x: Thank you! :)**

**Amme: Oh look, they kissed up there! Thanks for loving. **

**IvyMoore: Thanks for the review! I'm glad to know it's your favorite chapter. How about this one? I'll make sure to add some drama for her when The Ending starts happening. :)**

**Mindylover: Thanks for reviewing! :)**

**FrenchTifa: Haha, Andrea's just overwhelmed at that moment, I think. I think... x) Thanks for the review! Long ones make me smile. :)**

**Sam0728: Thanks for saying that! I know what you mean. I hold grudges for a long time, but Andrea is just too…nice? I guess? :)**

**Thanks for reading!**


	8. Arrival Of The New Greenie

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Maze Runner.**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 8: Arrival Of The New Greenie<span>

"_Your baby blues…so full of wonder…your curly cues…your contagious smile…" a melodic voice crooned slowly. A faint outline of a woman was patting a little girl to sleep—her child, maybe? "And as I watch…you start to grow up…all I can do…is hold you tight…"_

_The child smiled, reaching her hands up to touch her mother's face. The woman smiled softly, wrapping her fingers around the little hands. "I wanna th…sing to, mommy."_

"_Okay," the woman replied in a hushed voice. "You know the words, right?"_

"_Yeth," the little girl said with a lisp. She frowned before struggling to say, "Y-Yes."_

_The woman laughed breathily, kissing the girl on her forehead. "Knowing," she started as the little girl started joining in. "Storms will rage in…clouds will race in…but you will be safe…in my arms."_

"_Rain will pour down…waves will crash-" "crack-"_

_They both stopped singing all of a sudden as the older woman grinned. "Oh, you got the words wrong."_

"_No, I didn't," the girl answered, blinking innocently. "I th-said…crash."_

_The woman laughed and poked the girl in the ribs. "You little liar, you," she said teasingly and started tickling the girl. Laughter rang out from both of them as they tickled each other._

"_Wake up, Andrea," another voice said, making the two females freeze. The little girl's face twisted in confusion as the voice spoke again. "Andy, wake up."_

_The image of the two started fading as the voice became louder, echoing against my ears._

"Even when you don't sleep in my room anymore, you're still hard to wake," I heard the familiar voice say. "_Everyday_, Andy. Seriously. Do you know how hard it is to wake you up? Have you ever tried talking to a stone?"

The customary routine had me used to it after a few weeks in the Glade. Instead of continuing to be annoyed at Newt, I surprisingly started to expect him to wake me up every morning. He had settled to be my personal alarm clock since day one and it didn't bother him at all—besides for the exasperated rants he would voice out. He was practically the first person I saw everytime I woke up.

It didn't mean that I liked getting out of bed, though.

"Then don't wake me up," I slurred, burying me head in my pillow. "Easy as that."

Newt sighed and I didn't hear any more words come out of his mouth. I concluded that he left and would come back later, and I started to fall asleep again, in hopes that the dream would come back.

That all flew out the window when I felt pokes from under the hammock. I groaned in annoyance as Newt kept poking my face and hands, waiting for me to give in and rise out of bed. "Stop it, Newt," I mumbled, trying to turn sideways to shield myself from his jabbing fingers. Unfortunately for me, that only gave him excess to my ribs.

"Newt!" I yelped as he poked my ribs. I turned around, sitting up so he couldn't poke me from under the hammock anymore. He laughed, sitting down on the floor. I tried glaring at him but only ended up smiling. "You're awful, you know that? Get out."

Newt caught the pillow I decided to fling at him and asked, "Is that anyway to treat your boyfriend?"

I couldn't help but feel my heart race when he said that. Even after a couple of weeks of us being…_together_…it still made my stomach all fluttery. I had absolutely no clue why, since he was just Newt.

Newt; as in my adorable, amusing, good-looking, flirtatious and joyful _boyfriend._

Oh, I felt the butterflies again.

I smiled and leaned in to give him a quick peck on the lips. It was bizarre how tall he was that he could actually still reach me while he was sitting down on the floor. Or maybe I just had a low hammock? I pulled away just as he started to lean in deeper.

"What?" Newt asked, blinking. "That's all?"

"Morning breath," I said simply, grinning.

Newt rolled his eyes. "You don't have morning breath."

"Oh," I tilted my head sideways, smiling sweetly. "I wasn't talking about me."

Newt's lips curved into a grin as he playfully threw the pillow back at me. I burst out laughing as I caught it and placed it back where it belonged. Newt stood up and helped my lazy butt off hammock. He hooked his arm around my waist, pulling me close. I smiled as he leaned in to plant a proper kiss on my lips. I enjoyed the soft feeling of his lips before pulling away.

"Good morning," he breathed out.

I grinned. "It is good, isn't it?"

Chuckling at my answer, he let go of me. I stepped back and straightened out the ruffles on my clothes and my messy bed hair. Newt took my hand gently and pulled me to the door.

"Now that my job is done, I'll be leaving," he said, smiling. "I'll see you…no, you probably won't see me at breakfast," he frowned.

I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion. "Why not?"

"Alby called a Gathering. Not sure what klunk he wants to sprout, but it sounds important," he explained. I frowned but nodded. "But I'll see you after that, for the rest of the day."

"Right," I let out a short laugh. "Go on then. Don't wanna make Alby wait, right?"

Newt shrugged. "Ah, he can wait a few more minutes. I bet the other shanks aren't there yet."

"Still, you're second-in-command," I remarked smartly. "See you later."

Newt sent me one last smile before he turned to walk out of the Ranch. Before I could shut the door though, I heard him halt and yell, "Oh, Andy! I've got a surprise for you!"

"I'm starting to get mixed feelings from all these surprises," I commented as Newt grinned. "What's the occasion this time?"

"Check the date, love," he said. "It's your one month anniversary in the Glade."

* * *

><p>After I finished making breakfast with Niels and Willy—since Frypan was at the Gathering—I made my way to breakfast. When I didn't find anyone from my usual table, that was when I realized that all my friends—Newt, Minho, Alby, Winston, Clint, Frypan, heck even Gally—all had positions in the Glade. They were either Leader, Second-in-command or Keepers.<p>

I tried searching for Chuck, but he was nowhere to be seen. Walking awkwardly through the sitting Gladers, I settled to just sit by myself on an empty table.

Remembering what Newt said about today, I smiled to myself. It had been a month of me being the Glade, and it felt so fast. A lot of things had changed for me since my arrival. For instance, I wasn't too obsessed with clipping my nails. I let them grow and cut them with a pair of scissors when they got too long. Surprisingly, scissors weren't so bad. Other than that, the Gladers didn't treat me like an outsider anymore. The stares were gone and I was treated just like another one of them.

The day after everyone found out that Newt and I were '_together'_; many didn't believe it was true. Questions were fired everytime I was in sight, and it was annoying. What was the most irritating was probably how they acted like I wasn't even there when they discussed about us. Newt made sure to take care of that though, and the next day, not a single question was asked.

"Hey," a voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "Is anyone sitting here?"

I looked up to see Jeff—the only other Med-jack in the Glade. I've talked with him a few times, and he was really easygoing. He was always spent his time around Clint and Winston though.

"I wish," I sighed. "But apparently all my friends are ranked Gladers. Except for Chuck but I can't seem to find him anywhere."

"Yeah, mine too. Winston, Clint, Fry and Zart are all Keepers," he answered, smiling. "Can I sit here?"

"Sure," I nodded. As he sat down, I said, "Guess we're the one's left behind, huh?"

Jeff laughed and nodded. We started to small talk while eating. When your friends are all boys, it gets easier to talk to _any _boy. So thankfully, our conversation wasn't awkward in any way.

I felt a presence slide into the seat next to me. Turning my head, I saw Chuck.

Smiling, I said, "Hey, Chuck."

"Hi," he answered, grinning. Only, his grin looked brighter than usual. Even his eyes sparked with glee as he started eating.

"Chuck," I started slowly. "Why are you late? You're normally early to breakfast. Even I'm almost finished eating."

The chubby boy swallowed hid food before answering. "I just had some work to do at the Homestead. Cleaning hammocks, you know."

"That's it? Don't you normally wait to do that _after _breakfast?" I asked, suspicious.

"Just thought I'd get an early start," he beamed. "Oh, hey! Did Newt tell you anything about the bonfire later?"

I frowned, no news of any Bonfire coming into mind. "No," I replied, shaking my head. Chuck let out a small 'oh,' and it clicked in my head. "Ah, you weren't just cleaning were you, Chucky?" I said, smirking. "You were eavesdropping on the Gathering."

Chuck immediately smiled sheepishly. "You got me."

"You eavesdropped?" Jeff asked in surprise. He leaned in closer and asked, "What'd you hear?"

"They're having a bonfire tonight!" Chuck responded, grinning excitedly. "I'm not sure why, but they are."

My mind immediately processed what Chuck said. I was aware what a bonfire was. It was a large open-air fire used for celebrations, or at times, burning trash. I pushed away the latter, since it was a ridiculous thought. I've never celebrated anything in the Glade. How did they organize a party anyways? What were they celebrating?

"Has this ever happened before?" I asked, since I had only been there for a month.

Jeff nodded, looking just as excited as Chuck was. "A few times, according to Clint. Rarely done, since it's a lot of work. So expect to be cooking a lot tonight, greenie."

I frowned, thinking back to the real world and how parties and celebrations took up a lot of food. Sometimes, even wasted food. Unfortunately, there were no homeless people to feed here in the Glade, so cooking for a specific amount is going to be tough. Hopefully, Frypan doesn't get pulled into another meeting and will busying himself in the Kitchen.

* * *

><p>Alby had already made the announcement of the bonfire during lunch, and the Gladers were all willing to help. The Keepers were all gathered with their crew, giving out assignments and orders. There was chaos for a moment, when everyone started chiming in about what event should be held at the celebration. Alby took care of that by threatening to cancel it if they didn't follow orders.<p>

To say the least, nobody dared to voice out anything after that.

In less than a minute, everyone left the dining area to assist in organizing the event. The Builders were on duty to gather masses of firewood from the forest for the main attraction—the bonfire—and to make some extra benches and log seats. The Track-hoes helped the Builders with all the heavy things that needed to be transported, and helped pick out the best-looking crops to send to the Kitchen. The Sloppers helped clean the scene, ridding it of any thrash and also raked the sandpit that was rarely used. The Slicers had taken to slaughtering their most beefy cow to send to the kitchen—and it was _colossal_.

Frypan made us three cooks prepare different dishes each after setting out all the ingredients and giving us different instructions. We were expected to cook a little of everything—from pre-cooked frozen frankfurters, to the meatloaves, and to the never-been-made muffins. Of course, I was the one in charge of the desserts and basically anything involving batter. By the end of the day, we had pot roast, fried chicken, some bacon, ramen noodles, assorted fruits and meatloaf. I inserted three desserts of my own, which were simple blueberry muffins, lemon cupcakes and the ever so popular waffles.

After we finished fixing everything up, I left the kitchen to get some rest before the night. I had not seen Newt or Minho the whole day, so I concluded that they were both busy with their own duties just as I was. Minho was probably running, so he was doing the same thing he did everyday—the lucky shank.

Everything around the Glade looked amazing. The bonfire was already assembled in the middle of the yard, with log seats and benches surrounding it. Tables were put aside and being stacked with food, plates and cups. Most boys were still working and lending a helping hand to anyone who needed it so I walked off to find a place to relax.

Eventually, I found Gally at his building site, lying against a stack of wood. I walked over to him and noticed his eyes were shut close.

"Slacking off, are you?" I said, making his eyes snap open. "Not a good look for a Keeper."

Gally rolled his eyes. "I've done my job, greenie. Cut the shuck wood and made the benches. Now slim it and let me rest."

"You're resting? I wanna rest too," I grinned. "I think I'll join you."

I could almost hear the annoyed sigh he emitted as I laid against the stack of wood beside him. I snickered when he opened his eyes, staring at the sky with a stony expression.

"Don't you have someone else to bother? Your boyfriend, maybe?" he asked.

Shaking my head, I replied, "I haven't seen him all day, with me being in the kitchen and cooking the whole time."

"I don't really care," he sighed and closed his eyes again, resting against the wood. "Just be quiet."

I let Gally have his moment of silence, and counted up to the number ten, before saying, "Hey, Gally."

The Keeper groaned and turned to look at me, his face irked. "What is it?" he asked before muttering, "You're so annoying."

"You're so _boring_," I retorted, rolling my eyes. "Anyways, what's the occasion for the bonfire? Is today someday special or just a random decision you guys made?"

"Didn't you listen to a word Alby said just now?" he raised his curved eyebrow, making me laugh. "Don't laugh at my eyebrows."

Slowing my laughter, I shook my head. "Don't sweat it. I can do it too, remember?" I started raising one eyebrow, wriggling it for effects. "Only your eyebrow's a bit more…quirky. And Eccentric. Idiosyncratic. Strange. Odd-"

"Enough with my eyebrows," Gally huffed.

"Oh, don't worry," I said, patting him hardly on his shoulder. "If you ever enter a 'Best Eyebrow' contest, I'll make sure to vote for you."

Gally narrowed his eyes, faking a laugh. "You're really funny. Have you ever tried swallowing some glue? Because that'd be funnier."

"A comedian too," I mused, crossing my legs to sit up straight. Gally rolled his eyes. "But seriously, what's today?"

Gally took a minute to waste time before asking, "Did anyone ever tell you how long we've been here?" he started, raising _both _his eyebrows. "Specifically?"

I thought back to my pathetic tryout with Bill the Bagger and nodded. "Yeah, Bill did. Why?"

"You should understand by now then, greenie," he said. I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion, shaking my head to signal him that I didn't. He sighed, rubbing his face. "You're really slow aren't you?"

"I'm not slow," I rebuked, scowling. "I just don't get it. You've been here for 2 years and 11 months. So what?"

The boy rolled his eyes and groaned in visible exasperation. He sat up, looking straight at me. "Listen. We've been here for 2 years and 11 months _before _you came. Alright?" he asked, waiting for my nod before continuing. "And when you came, it was the next month…get it?" I frowned and shook my head uncertainly. Gally exhaled in frustration. "Shuck it, greenie. You were the last greenbean, of the last month, of last year."

"Last month of last year?" I repeated slowly, trying to digest his words. My eyes displayed a look of comprehension as I came to remember that it had been a month since I was here. "Oh! I get it! That means-"

"That it's a new year, yeah," Gally said, waving his hand indifferently. "Congratulations, you finally understand. Thank god this place has no shuck teaching jobs. I'd probably be in a grave with ol' Nick before ya ever graduate."

I ignored Gally's insult and stared aimlessly at the ground. They had been in the Glade for officially three years. And today they were celebrating the arrival of that third year. If I came in December, then it must be January now—January the first. I tried to imagine their lives before me. How did they feel to be trapped in the Glade for three years and no way out? I've only been in the Glade for a month, and although it felt long, it also felt fast. It seemed like it was just yesterday that I came up in the Box.

The Box. My mind then clicked to something I totally overlooked.

"Wait, that means another greenie's coming up today, right?" I asked.

Gally nodded, looking at the Box in the middle of the Glade. "Mhm. The buggin' thing hasn't-"

A loud, blaring alarm suddenly went off in the Glade. It came from everywhere, but no sound box or loudspeakers could be seen. I frowned as the sound made itself familiar in my ear. The alarm was repeating itself loudly and it gave me time to actually remember something. I've heard it before, but where?

"Speak of the devil," Gally muttered and started to stand up.

I stared at his standing figure, still listening to the everlasting alarm. "I know this sound," I stated. "I've heard it before."

"Course you have, shank," he said, holding a hand out to help me up. I took it willingly and stood beside him. "It's the Box. You're not the greenie anymore."

Gally started to run towards the center of the Glade. I looked around to see that many other Gladers were doing the same. It hit me that the Box was sending up a new person—the next greenbean. I blinked, not quite believing that it was happening, but the resonating sound in my ears proved that it was.

I started smiling when I thought of the greenie being another girl. Finally, I won't have to be the only one. Not wasting anymore time, I excitedly joined running in the direction everyone else was.

* * *

><p>When I got to the Box, I had to push and squeeze through everyone else just to get to the middle. The curiosity and trepidation in me increased as the Box surged up, no doubt with a new person in there—I was hoping for a girl. A few minutes passed and the Box was still nowhere to be seen despite the everlasting sound of metal pulleys.<p>

I saw Newt across the Box and sent him a smile, to which he responded with a slight wave. Since everyone was crowding around the box, I couldn't make my way over to him. Crouching to wait for the box to arrive, I saw that Gally was the person next to me.

The alarm stopped blaring after a few minutes, and all that was heard were the harsh sounds of metal against metal, chains and pulleys hitting each other while trying to lift the Box. I started standing up, peering over the closed box. A loud, reverberating _boom_ echoed through the Glade as the Box halted in its place. A short alarm and a flash of green light from under the covers informed us that the Box had arrived.

Gally forced the two sliding doors open, and everyone tried peering in to get a look at the girl. Much to our surprises, when the doors were gaping for us to see inside, it wasn't a girl. My smile instantly fell when I saw who it was—or rather, the _gender_ of who it was.

It was a boy.

Disappointment washed through me as I heard the Gladers sighed. The skinny boy just stared back at us—fear, confusion, curiosity and bewilderment etched on his face. I let myself frown at the boy, for some reason blaming him that he wasn't born a girl.

"It's not a girl," a Glader voiced.

A few 'yeah' and 'that sucks' sounded through the crowd. When they all got over that fact though, they started throwing comments at the greenbean below.

"Look at that shank."

"How old is he?"

"Looks like a klunk in a t-shirt."

"You're the klunk, shuck-face."

"Dude, it smells like _feet _down there!"

"Hope you enjoyed the one-way trip, Greenie."

"Ain't no ticket back, bro."

The boy just stared back at us, probably stuck with trying to understand what _klunk _and _greenie_ meant. I wasn't sure how the Gladers all got over the fact that it wasn't a girl that quickly, but I guessed they were used to it. I however, wasn't. I wanted a girl. Maybe I should kidnap him and try turning him into one?

I stared at the boy, trying to picture if he was actually just a girl with short hair, but he wasn't.

It really _was _a_ boy_.

Gally brought it upon himself to jump into the Box below, his weight creating a loud sound as it landed in front of the frightened greenbean. I briefly wondered where the rope they used to pull me out was. Gally seized the boy by his collar, saying, "Day one, greenie. Rise and shine."

Without any warning, he threw the greenie out of the Box. The newbie landed beside me, where Gally stood a few minutes ago. He immediately caught my face, staring with shock and surprise. The boys around me started crowding around him, taunting him and teasing his scrawny frame.

"Which Keeper he gonna get?"

"I told ya, shuck-face. He's a klunk so he'll be a Slopper—no doubt about it."

"I might need some help in the kitchen," said Frypan from somewhere.

The boy's head snapped around wildly, trying to find an opening to escape the many Gladers around him. The boys laughed and poked the novice, making me let out a chuckle. The Gladers could be rude, but they were amusing.

"He won't even do that much—bet my liver on it," one said.

I watched the newbie start to stand up awkwardly, with the Gladers barely creating any space for him. He started looking around the Glade, taking his surroundings into recognition. His harsh breathing calmed down as I observed him—tall, skinny, dark brown hair and a pale complexion.

"Yeah, take a good look around, greenie," someone shouted.

Before I could walk over to him and save him from the group of crazy Gladers, his eyes found a gap among the Gladers.

Then he started running.

Zart yelled out, "Hey, we have a Runner!"

Everyone's eyes trailed his as he made his way across the Glade—and I had to say, he was quite fast—and headed towards the Maze Door. Gally turned to Alby in warning but the leader only raised a hand to shush him.

In a split second, the greenie went from running to stumbling over his feet. He fell face forward on to the ground, rolling harshly against the grass.

The Gladers snickered and hooted at the greenie's rowdy entrance. Part of me felt pity for the boy because I was in his place once—scared, confused and clumsy—only not as reckless as he was. I pushed my way through the teenage boys and jogged over to the newbie. I heard footsteps follow behind me, and assumed that the Gladers wanted to meet the boy too.

When I reached the boy, he was already standing up and looking around the Glade with astonishment. I softly tapped his shoulder. He turned around quickly and stepped back when he saw me.

"Hi," I said, smiling friendly.

The boys studied me for a moment, frowning. Unexpectedly, he said, "I know you."

My smile faded instantly. I tried to reach to the back of my mind for anything involving the boy, but I found nothing as usual. "What?" I asked, wishing I just heard him wrong.

"I know you," he repeated, observing me closely. "I _know _you."

I swallowed, not knowing what to make of the situation. An odd silence washed over us for a minute. Finally, I asked, "What's your name?"

His eyes clouded as he tried to remember something from his past. He blinked a few times, shaking his head. "An-Andrea…?"

If it weren't for the situation we were in, I would have laughed or teased him about how Andrea was a girl's name. And also, it couldn't be his name because- "That's…_my _name."

The boy stared at me, frowning and taking wobbly steps away. His mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. I wanted to ask what was so scary when I felt someone walk past me and grabbed the boy by roughly his collar.

Gally threw the boy at Alby's feet, not looking the least bit apologetic. Before Alby could say anything though, Newt bent down and asked seriously, "How do you know Andy?"

"A-Andy?"

"Andrea," Newt corrected, pointing at me. "_Her_."

The newbie shook his head vigorously. "I don't…I don't know. Why don't I know? Why can't I remember anything?" he didn't give Alby or Newt a chance to answer before he asked, "Where am I?"

"Long story, shank," Alby answered. "Piece by piece, you'll learn. I'll take you on the tour tomorrow, since you came up so late today. The Runners'll be back soon."

"Runners…?" he said confusedly.

I knew that was a wrong thing to say when Alby rolled his eyes and sighed in frustration. "Slim it, Newbie."

"No, tell me," the boy said, his voice surprisingly steady. "Seriously, where am I?"

"If ya ain't scared, ya ain't human," Alby retorted simply. "If ya act any different, I'll throw you off the Cliff myself. It'd mean you're a psycho."

The boy scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. "The Cliff?"

Alby rubbed his hand over his forehead in annoyance. "Shuck it, greenie. Ain't no way to start these conversations. We got a lot planned for tonight, so you'll just have to be patient," he said. I saw anger make its way into the boy's eyes. Before the newbie could reply though, Alby grabbed he boy roughly and shoved him at a Bagger, "Get him to the Slammer. I'll deal with him later."

"Oi, Alby," Newt suddenly voiced. "You do know that you're hurtin' more than helpin'?"

"No time to be nice," Alby answered. "Lot more to do for tonight. Bill!" Alby called the Keeper of the Baggers. "Take 'im."

Bill and his Baggers came to the front and seized the boy by his shoulders. The greenie looked around wildly, trying to get out of their grip. "Wait!" he shouted. "Wait! Are you gonna…kill me or something?"

"We don't kill shanks like you here, greenie," Alby said before the Baggers took him away. "Newt," he called out to the blond boy. "Take care of him for me. I need to-"

A bloodcurdling scream was then heard from the Homestead. Every kid in sight turned toward the source. Even Newt jumped, and I suddenly remembered who it was. The sick boy; Ben. He was stung two days days ago, and no one knew how. All I know was that Minho dragged him back and made it just in time, as the doors were about to close. I frowned as his screaming started again, louder this time.

"Shuck it," Alby sighed. "Can't the bloody med-jacks handle that boy for ten minutes without needin' my help?"

Alby then walked off towards the wooden building in a hurry. The Gladers slowly disbanded one by one, and I caught Newt trying to catch up with the Baggers in charge of the newbie.

In my head, all I could think about was the boy—the greenie. He said that he knew me. It wasn't even a misinterpretation since he knew my name instead of his. How could he know my name? Was he someone from my past? Did he know me before this? Questions bombarded my mind, but I couldn't ask him anything. From what I perceived, he didn't remember a single thing, just like the rest of us.

Shaking my head, I tried forgetting the incident. I didn't notice Gally beside me. His arms were folded and a suspicious look was on his face. "I've seen him before."

I snapped my head to him. "What?"

"The greenie," he said grimly. "He's bad news."

* * *

><p>That night, I left the Ranch in a hurry, doing my best to make myself look somewhat nice for the celebration—hard to do when you have the exact same clothing everyday. I ran past the main area, where the bright flame from the bonfire burnt. In the distance, I saw the Box and hoped that it hasn't gone down yet.<p>

When I arrived at the Box, I saw that there was someone else inside. The boy seemed to be placing notes into a sack. I sighed in relief that the metal contraption was still present and crouched to look inside. "Who is that?" I asked, straining my eyes to see.

The boy looked up, and raised a hand in form of a wave. "Oh, hey there, Andy."

"Hey," I responded. I caught his face from the dim fire nearby and recognized him. "Clint?"

"Yup, it's me," he nodded in affirmation. "Need anythin'?"

"Yes, actually," I said, pulling a neatly folded note out of my pocket. "Minho said the box accepted notes? Like, for supplies?"

Clint nodded, holding the sack up. "That's right. It's what I'm doing right now."

I looked in the sack and saw a few pieces of crumpled notes inside it. "Great. Um, can I send a note?"

"No."

I blinked, taken aback. "What?"

Clint laughed, shaking his head. "I'm just playin' with you, greenie. Sheesh," he said, reaching his hand out for the note. I passed it on to him with my fingers. "That's it?"

"Yup. Thanks, Clint," I smiled sweetly, standing back up to get to the bonfire. "And if you haven't noticed, I'm not the greenie anymore."

"I noticed," he answered, placing my note in the sack with the rest. "The new shank's weird."

I laughed and said a goodbye to Clint before making my way to the celebration taking place. When I reached the bonfire, I had to smile at the joyful ambience around the location. Everyone was chatting happily, eating around the fire and having a good time. A few Gladers were encircling the sand pit, watching Gally and another boy spar. Everyone was in groups, eating and talking noisily or dancing around the fire.

A sudden pang of pity hit me as I thought of Ben missing out on the occasion.

My eyes sought out for someone that I knew. Newt was still nowhere to be seen, and I pursed my lips since I haven't seen him for the whole day. Chuck was also missing-in-action. I spotted Minho in the shadows, far away from the fire, eating by himself. Relieved, I walked over to him.

I frowned when I saw him eating slowly, not looking as thrilled as the other Gladers for some indefinite reason. "Hey, Minho," I said, coming from behind him and patting his shoulder.

Minho turned to me and smiled tiredly. "Hey, _babe_."

I rolled my eyes. Even after I got together with Newt, he still called me that. I tried making him stop—since it was embarrassing and created gossip among the Gladers—but he's…_Minho_. He never listens.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked concernedly when I noticed his worn out physique.

"Running," he answered, taking another bite of his chicken. "A lot of running."

"But…you run everyday," I stated, puzzled.

Minho swallowed his food and said, "Ben's not running, so I had to run his section too," an annoyed look crossed over his face then. "The shuck-face just had to go and get stung."

Comprehension dawned on me and I let out an 'oh,'. I took a seat next to him and rested my hand on his shoulder. "Poor you, then. Having to do so much work," I sighed. Then, I smiled and said, "Imagine if the Glade had, like, weekly newspapers. This week's would probably be—Keeper of the Runners miserable on the wake of the New Year. Resources claim it is due to his hospitalized running partner. Will this sudden spur of extreme worry and concern spark feelings in our Head Runner, such as…bromance?"

Blinking, Minho playfully shoved my hand off. "You're no help at all," he said with a smile. I laughed and bent forward to grab a piece of chicken from his plate. He watched me with narrowed eyes and said, "That's mine."

"I know," I smiled and took a bite out of it. Chewing, I spoke, "Hey, have you seen Newt?"

"I think he's with the greenie somewhere," he answered, taking the last chicken and munching on it. "Don't worry though. He's straight. The greenie's not gonna steal your boy."

Punching Minho's shoulder, I laughed. "That's not it, klunk-head. I just haven't seen him all day."

"Oh, don't worry," Minho said, putting his plate on the ground. Then, he yawned, making me giggle. He cupped my mouth playfully and stopped yawning. "He told me about his surprise. You'd better be making out with him by the end of it."

"Why?" I asked curiously, thankful for the dim surroundings that hid my blush. "What's the surprise?"

"I can't tell you the surprise, but what I _can _tell you is that the shank had been talking my ear off about it," Minho replied. "He even had Chuck help him find the place, so you'd better be thanking him afterwards. Preferably, with your lips battling in a hot make out session."

I frowned, trying not to show him my red face, and shoved him. "Your mouth has no filter, you know that?"

"I know," he answered, smirking. He suddenly turned to his side and bent down. I tried to look past him at what he was doing but he swiftly turned back around with something in his hand—a cupcake. "Look. I got this."

Smiling at the pleased feeling I received whenever someone held my food, I nodded. "That's great. I made that."

"Really?" Minho asked, starting to tear off the paper cup that held the tiny cake together. I nodded in confirmation. "Huh. Thought so. It looked prettier than any dessert the other shanks would've made."

I smiled and jerked my head to the item in his hands. "Go on, try it."

Minho wasted no time in ripping the paper in annoyance and stuffing the cupcake into his mouth. Like a scene in a movie, his inept ability to nibble on a cupcake didn't exist. Instead, he opened his mouth wide enough to bite on half of the mini cake—literally. And because of that, Minho ended up with a large amount of icing smothering his lip and cheek.

When he heard me laughing, Minho scrunched his eyebrows in confusion and asked through a full mouth, "Whut?"

"You have, um…" I trailed off, gesturing to his face and tapping my finger on the left side of my lips. "A little smudge."

"Where?" he asked, using his other clean hand to wipe his right cheek. "I don't feel it. Did I get it?"

I repressed a laugh, looking at the white icing still on the side of his lips and cheek. "No, just…" Shaking my head, I said, "You know what? Here."

I reached a hand out to wipe off the cupcake's icing off his cheek. I dragged my thumb across it to his lips, and dabbed a few times to get rid of the stain. All the while, Minho gave me a funny look, which I avoided. Retracting my thumb, I just realized that I landed myself into an awkward situation again, so I smiled and wiped off the frosting on his shoulder.

Minho blinked a few times before raising his eyebrows. "Okay, the part when you wiped it off was real sweet and all, but then _this_?" he said incredulously, motioning to his sleeves. "Really?"

Before I could grin and retort with a witty remark, rowdy voices and jeers were heard from the sand pit. The Gladers that were sitting down had all left to join the crowd encircling the fighting ring. They hooted and squeezed against each other to see what was happening. Laughs from the few obnoxious Gladers rang out.

Minho and I shared a curious look before making our way over to the pit. I forced myself through the crowd to see Gally standing facing the new boy, a smug expression on his face. I frowned, seeing the greenie appearing to be panicked and frightened. He turned to find a way out of the circle but was blocked by the Gladers.

"It's simple. I try to push you out of the circle, and you try to last longer than two minutes," Gally said boastfully. "So what do you say, greenie?"

Before the boy could answer, Gally roughly shoved him. The greenie fell back but was caught by the Gladers. They pushed him back into the ring, much to his disfavor. The boy started grimacing at his opponent, brushing some make-believe dust off his shoulders. I felt pity stir in me for the boy and scowled as Gally altered his stance, jumping lightly on his feet.

"Come on greenie. We're not finished yet."

"Stop calling me greenie," the boy retorted, making the Gladers whistle and snigger mockingly.

"Stop calling you that?" Gally smirked slightly. "What do you want to be called? Shank?"

The boy started furiously rammed into Gally. The Builder swiftly caught the boy by his arms, forcing him down and throwing him to the ground harshly. The boy landed on his stomach unceremoniously, his face crashing into the sand. The Gladers all snickered and hooted.

"You know what?" Gally said. "I think I've settled on shank."

Since I had already made it to the front, I sighed and told him, "Try to go easy on him, Gally."

Gally looked at me for a moment before rolling his eyes. The boy got up once more and charged at Gally, trying his hardest to push Gally out of the pit. The Keeper put all his strength into grabbing the boy and forcing him down. The boy tried pushing Gally back by his stomach, but was failing. Unexpectedly, the boy sidestepped and pushed Gally down, the latter falling face front onto the sand.

I suppressed a laugh as Gally grit his teeth and scoffed. "Not bad for a greenie."

He swiftly swung his leg out at the boy's leg, making him fall sideways. The boy's head struck the ground hardly, generating a loud thumping sound.

My eyes widened in panic, wondering if the boy could end up with a concussion or brain injury. The Gladers just laughed as I observed vague awareness entering the boy's eyes. He started blinking, and stood up silently. The Gladers stopped their noises to stare at him in odd bewilderment.

He mumbled something too low for anyone else to hear, and Gally asked, "What?"

"Thomas," the boy said, louder. He smiled for the first time since arriving in the Glade and continued. "Thomas! It's my name…_I'm_ Thomas!"

A pregnant silence engulfed the scene. Not a few seconds later, it was broken by Alby pointing at him. "Thomas!"

The boys around me started hooting and cheering, waving their hands in the air and patting Thomas on his back. They swarmed over to the greenie and gave him handshakes and friendly smiles, making me blink at their fast acceptance of the boy. I smiled when Thomas gladly accepted their entire warm welcoming, no longer feeling left out or uncomfortable.

Rather, it was _me _who felt uncomfortable.

With all the noises over the cheers, I stepped back and left the crowd, choosing to just stand by the bonfire. The whole occasion looked like a massive…_boy thing_. Like when boys meet each other and just good-naturedly do those _boyish _handshakes and half hug with back pats, or even the fist bumps.

Everything about the entire scene just screamed _bromance_ and I felt like I was intruding.

Suddenly, a loud unearthly groan echoed throughout the Glade. Everyone's heads snapped to the maze walls, their attention diverting from Thomas to the mysterious labyrinth. I scrunched my eyebrows, not knowing if that was the sound of the Maze changing or the Grievers throwing a party too.

"What was that?" Thomas asked.

Alby shook his head, "Nothin' good," turning his attention back to the crowd, he raised his voice to speak. "Okay, ya shanks. Clean up your klunk and get to bed. The day still goes on like usual tomorrow."

Defeated groans and sighs were heard as the Gladers grumbled, throwing away their trash and retreating back to the Homestead. Even the Sloppers were tired and chose to finish cleaning up the site the next day. The bonfire was left untouched though, creating light for anyone who needed it.

I sighed, seeing that I lost Minho. Choosing to sit on a log, I stared at the fire for no reason. I wasn't feeling entirely tired, and I wasn't too excited to retire back to the Ranch so quickly. Briefly, I wondered where Newt was, since I haven't seen him all day. Honestly—not to sound like a clingy girlfriend—I missed having him around.

Like he knew what I was thinking, two arms suddenly encircled around my waist as a familiar voice whispered in my ears, "Why so gloomy?"

A smile immediately graced my lips as I tilted my head around to see Newt. I smiled and said, "Hi."

Newt leaned down, placing a soft kiss on my lips. "I haven't seen you all day," he said, smiling. "I missed you."

I laughed breathily. "I missed you too."

Newt stepped over the log and took a seat beside me, reaching for my hand. He glanced at me with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "So…I told you that I had a surprise."

"You did," I nodded. "Min also told me."

His eyebrows creased in slight worry. "Wait…he told you? Did he tell you the surprise?"

"No," I replied, chuckling at his apprehension. "He just told me that I should thank you," smiling, I leaned in closer to his face. "And maybe even reward you with a few kisses."

Newt grinned, gently brushing some hair out of my face. "You can just do that know."

I laughed a little and pressed my lips to him. He responded eagerly, placing his hand on my cheek. His familiar rough lips captured mine, with a faded taste of his dinner setting off in my mouth. My stomach tingled the usual way it did whenever we'd kiss, and I just realized how much I missed having his lips on mine throughout the day.

Entangling my fingers in his smooth hair, I smiled against him and gently nibbled the side of his lips. He let out a sigh, releasing his warm breath on mine. His tentative tongue glided across my lips, seeming uncertain for some reason. Before I could spread his lips open, he pulled back.

Newt rested his forehead against mine, breathing slowly. "As much as I'd love to continue that," he paused, swallowing and caressing my cheek. "Your surprise awaits."

"Okay, what surprise?" I asked, smiling.

Grinning, Newt stood up. He helped me stand and started leading me across the grass. I saw that we were making our way to the Ranch. Whenever I asked Newt what he wanted to surprise me with, he would just smile and kiss my head mutely. After arriving at the Ranch, Newt leaned on the wooden wall and gave me a knowing stare.

"What now?" I raised a quizzical eyebrow.

Newt jerked his head to the door and said, "You're going to need a few things for this surprise. Um, a towel, and extra clothes…yeah, that's it."

"…why?" I asked curiously.

Newt just chuckled. "Trust me, Andy. You'll need it."

* * *

><p>After I hesitantly gathered some clothes, my towel, and stuffed them into my only red supply bag, I walked back out to find Newt still leaning against the wall, staring off into space. I stayed by the door, silently observing him.<p>

My eyes traced his tall, lean figure, from his messy blond hair down to his worn and frayed shoes. His eyes were distant, seeming to be journeying somewhere far beyond the Glade walls, maybe even past the Maze. The faint light emitting from the bonfire faraway reflected a soft gleam against his dark eyes, making them look all the more pensive. His arms were folded against his chest, his commonly bulging veins shadowed by the dim surroundings of the Glade. A contemplative expression settled on his face, his lips relaxed and not revealing anything.

I found myself smiling as I thought of how…_hot_ he looked. Even after a month of knowing him, I still felt abashed whenever I thought of him—mostly when my thoughts featured more than just kissing. I had to shake my head to refrain from blushing and stepped out to the grassy ground.

"I got my stuff," I said suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. He averted his gaze to me and immediately smiled. Before he could open his mouth, I asked, "You looked far in thought. Where'd you go?"

"I was just spacing out. It was nothing," he said, shaking his head lightly. He pulled something out of his pocket. "Now…you'll need this."

When he dangled the piece of fabric in front of my eyes, I instantly balked and said, "No way."

Newt just smiled evilly. "Oh, yes."

A few minutes later, I was walking through the forest with a blindfold tied around my eyes. The reason why I let Newt wrap it around me disappeared when I started questioning myself, and I found the disability to see very irritating. Newt had his hands on my shoulders, carefully guiding my blind self through the grassy and tree-packed woodland. The twigs sticking out of the trees unsymmetrically kept bumping into my face though, and all I could hear throughout the walk were Newt's apologies.

"Remind me why I agreed to this again?" I seethed as another thin tree branch scratched my face.

"Sorry," Newt apologized once more, his voice sounding like he was holding back laughter though. "Because you trust me."

I huffed, holding my hands out to shield myself from future branches. "You're lucky I do."

"I am," he replied, chuckling as he slowly pushed me in the direction he wanted me to go. I felt his breath near my ear as he said, "We're already near. Just a bit more. Won't be too long."

"It better not be," I retorted, frowning under the fabric. "I hate not seeing."

Newt only placed a kiss on my cheek, patting my shoulder as he led me through the Deadheads. I felt the stones and grass disappear gradually from under my shoe, being replaced by something like concrete, or maybe a giant slab of stone. I slid my shoe across the surface as we walked, feeling that it was flat and even. A few steps later, it even felt a little slippery. I bit my lips in curiosity, the darkness of the place and the cloth over my eye preventing me from seeing whatsoever.

"Are we there yet?" I asked impatiently.

Newt chuckled and stopped walking, holding my shoulders to make me halt. "Now we are."

Before he could voice his permission for me to remove the blindfold, I pulled it off my eyes quickly. My eyes sight was blurred, and I couldn't see anything for a moment. I blinked, wishing that my eyes would regain their focus faster. When it did, I made out a familiar rush off water under the rock I was standing on. Light from beside me revealed to be a lighted torch in Newt's hand. My eyes snapped to the ground and my mind immediately remembered the river where the Sloppers washed clothes.

"A river," I breathed out. "The river where the Sloppers wash things."

"No, actually. That's a bit further up," Newt answered, pointing to my left, from where the current was flowing. He gently took my hand in his. "This is the deeper end of the river," he explained, looking at me and grinning. "Happy one-month-being-in-the-Glade anniversary."

I smiled back and leaned up to press my lips against his. He responded softly, smiling. I pulled away abruptly, the question to why we were there popping into my head. "Wait, why are we here?"

Newt turned his head to the river and shrugged. "Well, at first I thought maybe I could surprise you with a picnic. You know, like those extremely cheesy romance movies," he paused when I laughed. "But then Alby came up with the bonfire and so that idea was shucked…then I thought, hey, least we still have the river."

"And what about the river?" I snorted. "You want me to swim or something?" I watched the corner or Newt's lips curve upwards as mine fell flat. The mischievous gleam in his eyes made me shake my head. "No. No way. You're totally kidding me."

"What's wrong with swimming?" he asked.

My lips released a disbelieved laugh. "Are you serious?" Newt only blinked, his question unanswered. "Okay, one; I don't know if I can even swim. Two; I have no swimming clothes."

"That's why I told you to bring the extras," Newt responded and slowly smirked. "Unless, you want to go in naked…that's entirely fine with me."

I felt my face redden and punched his shoulder. "Yeah. No way. And like I said, I don't know if I can even swim. I don't remember ever learning it."

"You don't remember how to cook, yet you still do," he replied smartly.

Rolling my eyes, I said, "This is different. This is…swimming. I could either be good at it or die."

Newt didn't answer and walked over to two rocks. He squeezed the torch into the narrow crack between them and carefully backing his hand away. He stared at the fire, making sure it was steady before nodding. Without warning, he started to take his shirt off.

Alarmed, I turned away. "Newt! What are you doing?"

"Going swimming."

"Naked?" I asked incredulously.

I felt his warm breath behind my ear as he answered, "I have my pants on." I turned around slowly and peeked at his legs, seeing his pants covering his skin. "But you could've just said if you wanted me with no clothes."

Seeing his teasing smirk on his face, I blushed and bit my lip to suppress a smile. Just because I wanted to, I pushed him into the river. Newt's eyes widened for a moment before he closed them and impacted with the water. I let a laugh escape my mouth as I crouched down at the edge of the rock as his head appeared.

Newt floated at the surface, staring at me with wild eyes. "I could've died!"

I continued laughing, as his lively grin returned. He started splashing water at me, making me gasp at the contact. "Newt, no! My clothes are still clean."

"I'll stop when you come in," he retorted, pushing another wave of water towards me. I stood up and stepped back, away from the water.

"I can't," I answered, smiling uncertainly. I tried thinking of reasons to refuse. "I don't even know if I can swim. What if I drown?"

Newt rolled his eyes, swimming to the rocks underneath me. "I'm here, right? You're not going to drown."

I smiled at his self-confidence, and glanced into the water. The darkness made me scared for some reason and I shook my head. "I shouldn't. I-ah!" I let out a shriek as a splash of water hit me in the face, dripping onto my shirt. Newt chuckled, his hands resting on the surface of the water, almost threateningly. "Newt!"

"Come in," he prompted, his eyes shining with hope and glee as he turned in circles. I felt a smile creep over my mouth but shook my head.

"I don't want to waste cloths, Newt," I said. "I have limited supplies, remember?"

"That'll just be a good excuse for you to wear my shirt" he responded determinedly. He continued in a teasing tone, "Or you can just come in in nothing."

Laughing, I stared at the black water. The fire from the torch only lit the surface and the rocks around us lightly. I didn't even know how deep the water was—what if it was so deep and I couldn't float? I dipped a hand into the water, feeling the cool liquid wet my fingers. Newt gave me a hopeful look, smiling in assurance. I bit my lips, nervous, but made up my mind.

"Fine," I said.

Newt's smile slowly faded as he blinked, taken aback. His cheeks flushed slightly in the dark and in a strained voice, he said, "You'll…come in in nothing?"

"What? No," I contradicted disbelievingly, sighing. "I don't do skinny dipping. I'll come in. Turn around."

"But you said you weren't-"

"Just turn, Newt," I said, giving him a pointed look. I twirled my finger in a circular motion and he exhaled heavily, turning with a muttered, 'fine.' "Don't turn back until I say so."

I didn't want to waste any clothes—mostly pants; I did not want to wear shorts anymore—so I decided to take my pants off. I kept telling myself that it was dark, and I'd be in the water so it wasn't like Newt could actually see anything. The cold night air hit my bare skin as I rolled my pants and placed it aside. I could always borrow someone's shirt, and they were easier to dry, so I kept mine on.

Reluctantly, I dipped my feet into the river. The cold water sent tingles up my skin as I shivered, biting my lips as I quickly placed both my feet in the water. Newt turned around so I quickly immersed my legs into the river. The water rose until my shoulder before I touched the rocky floor. I smiled as I realized that the river wasn't that deep.

"This isn't bad," I said as I walked towards Newt in the water. "It's not deep."

"If it was, I wouldn't have asked you to come in," Newt replied, making his way over to me. "The water's a bit cold though."

I nodded, using my fingers to make ripples on the surface. "It's nice, actually."

Newt laughed and splashed some water against me. "Course it is. Why was I asking you to join me the whole time?"

I splashed back some water at Newt, smiling. We engaged in a mini water fight before I pushed Newt's head into the water. He smiled mischievously before diving in, leaving me searching for him from the surface. I tried to feel for him with my hands under the water but felt nothing. A finger brushed my thigh before I heard water moving behind me.

"You're bare," he exclaimed when I turned around, his hair wet from the immersion he took. His lips quirked into a grin as I looked away to hide my blush. "That's why you told me to turn."

"Shut up," I said, poking his hard chest. "I didn't want to waste my clothes."

Newt grinned, brushing another finger against my leg. "I like it."

Laughing at the tickling feeling of his finger, I swam away. "How about we race. Swim to the end."

"A minute ago you were scared to come in. Now you want to race?" Newt scoffed.

"If you're chicken, you should've just said so," I said slyly. "I mean, like, can you even swim with a limp, right?"

Newt blinked and narrowed his eyes playfully. "Now, that's offensive."

I smiled sweetly, swimming closer to him. Placing my hands around his neck, I leaned in to whisper, "I'll see you at the end then."

Without waiting for his answer, I turned and swam away from him. I heard his laughter and loud, 'hey!' but didn't stop. The current helped me push myself further as I kicked my legs and swam carefully. Just like how I cooked and walked and did everything else—I knew how to swim just like that. I don't remember learning, but the experience certainly stuck.

A few strokes later, I stopped to turn and saw that Newt was having a hard time catching up. I laughed and turned to find that I was already face to face with the Maze wall. I took a few steps closer and felt a metal drain underneath my toes. I snapped my head around when Newt's swimming became louder.

"That was…horrible," Newt panted, stopping when he arrived a few inches away from me. He walked closer, smiling and ruffling his hair to let some water out.

"You're just bad at swimming," I said, smirking.

Newt chuckled, shaking his head so the water would fly out. I took that chance to observe the way his hair would fall against his face, sticking to his face and wet. I trailed my eyes down his figure and just realized how muscular his shoulders were. It wasn't bulging like actors in the movies, but they were slender and perfectly balanced the rest of his body. I let my gaze stray lower, to the rest of his body. I've never actually seen him without a shirt on, so his sturdy abs took me by surprise.

"What are you staring at?" Newt's teasing voice snapped me out of my blatant stare. I looked up to see that he was smirking, after he caught me.

I bit my lips, but didn't bother to look away in embarrassment. Instead, I moved closer to him. "Just…admiring my boyfriend," I stated seductively, smiling at the term I used. I reached down to run my hand along his well-built pack. "When did you get these?"

Newt released a shaky breath, making me hide a smirk. "Been there for awhile. Being in the Glade has its benefits."

"Oh, I've noticed," I said, wrapping my hands around his neck and letting my lips glide over his softly. An idea formed in my head as I said, "I mean, it's hard not to when you live with almost forty boys, right? And some of them _do _work without their shirts off."

Newt blinked, looking taken aback. "What?"

"The boys," I answered, grinning. "I mean, have you seen Gally with no shirt on? He _is_ a builder so it's not surprising how muscular he is," I said. Newt's moth fell open, confused. "And Minho. I've never seen him with his shirt off, but being a Runner, I'm pretty sure he's solidly built." Newt suddenly frowned, his mouth snapping shut. I was having too much fun though, and continued, "And don't tell anyone, but I've noticed Clint leaning sometimes and he's actually fine-"

Newt cut me off by yanking me to him, crashing his lips to mine hungrily. I closed my eyes, giving into him entirely. The smile on my lips proved to him that I was just teasing, but he continued caressing my lips rougher than he used to. My hands tangled into the back of his hair, while one of his hands cupped my cheek. He tilted my head up to deepen the kiss as I vaguely felt him push me back against the Maze wall.

Not taking his lips off my skin, he trailed kisses along my jaw and down my neck. I gasped out as he bit slightly at my collarbone, causing me to release a small moan. I let my hands rove across his chest and abs, as he pressed my back harder against the wall. His hands roamed up and down my sides, one tracing down to my bare thigh.

"Should…should we even b-be…doing this…right now?" I breathed out against his ear. I only managed to hear his muffled answers of 'Gladers asleep' and 'why not?'

My whole body shivered as he kissed back up my neck, retreating back to my lips. I captured his lips passionately, exploring his mouth as he did mine. Our lips moved against each other perfectly, eager and possessive. All I was able to think off the whole time was how amazing he felt.

Newt pulled back suddenly, breathing harshly and holding my face. "I l-"

I looked up, caught at his pause midsentence. "What?"

"I…" he trailed off, swallowing. "I'm glad you're here. In the glade. That you arrived in the Box. That you're with me."

Smiling, I stroked his cheek softly. "I'm glad too."

Newt grinned and started leaning in again. Before our lips could meet again though, my eyes caught a pair of red laser-like eyes glaring from across us, on a rock.

"Newt," I whispered in alarm, surprised at the creepy tiny dots. "Newt!"

"What is it?" Newt asked, looking at my face worriedly.

I pointed behind him, feeling scared for some reason. The eyes seemed bore into mine, looking straight at me like I was guilty of something. "There," I said. "What is that?"

Newt turned and strained his eyes to see. He walked closer as I timidly followed behind him. When we got closer, Newt suddenly laughed. I frowned, wondering if there was something wrong with him. I saw the owner of the eyes belonged to a long, silver centipede.

"It's just a beetle blade," Newt clarified.

"Beetle blade?" I repeated. "Why…but they look like centipedes?"

Newt blinked, looking at the silver animal and back to me. He smiled and said, "That's really what you're asking? Not what it does or why it's here, but you question the _name_?"

"It looks like a centipede! It has hundreds of legs…and it's long! I can't see wings anywhere," I retorted, ignoring what he said. "Why call it a _beetle _blade?"

He shook his head, immersing his body in the water. "Dunno. It's just been called that since I've been here. The shank that named it didn't mention why."

"What does it do?" I asked, finding the two blazing red dots to be intimidating.

"The creators use it to watch us."

I frowned. "Watch us?" I repeated as Newt nodded. Moving back to gaze at the creature, I muttered, "Perverts."

The blond boy burst out laughing and splashed some water on me unexpectedly. "Perverts indeed."

I grinned, splashing some water back at him. As the beetle blade suddenly crawled away, I caught red words smeared across it's torso; WICKED. The word seemed familiar for some reason, and I stared.

"So…should we go back now?" I asked after a while.

Newt contemplated it, and shook his head. "Why don't we just stay here for a while?" he asked, smiling. I smiled back, rippling the water with my movements. It wasn't like I could complain—I wanted to stay there too.

I pushed a wave of water towards Newt. He smirked and started splashing me, getting the water into my hair. I laughed as we continued our splashing game, forgetting any trouble we had in the Glade.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I am SO ****sorry for the late update. I usually hate reasons for tardiness, but I have a solid one. You see, my mom left me a chore when she went out—remove the clothes from the hanging line before it **_**rained**_**—but I fell ASLEEP. So later on I was woken up to the sound of her SCREAMING and WET CLOTHES. She blamed my laptop for some reason and took away the **_**charger**_**. That night, I was left all alone with my best friend **_**dead**_**. The next day after school, I came up with a plan to be helpful and ask her for the laptop back nicely, but she surprised me by saying, "we're going out to eat." We NEVER go out to eat, so by her sweet smile, I knew that she just wanted me AWAY from the laptop. I tried refusing, but she sweet-talked me with promises of ice cream, movies and shopping. I finally got it back late at night—after washing the plates, ironing clothes, bathing my baby brother and cooking—and only managed to write the Minho/Andy scene. The next day, I got my result for my end-of-the-year exam and it was bad—I got two C's! Even my four A's drowned in comparison! My mom scolded me and took the laptop AGAIN. So I finally got through her the next day—yesterday—and stayed up all night to write. And then when I finished, I thought maybe I could update later since I was sleepy, but when I woke up, the laptop was GONE. My brothers stole it and brought it to my grandma's house in secret! So this is it. I'm **_**so**_** SORRY.**

**THANK YOU for 20 reviews in one chapter! And it reached over 60 reviews! And thanks for all the follows and favorites. I am so happy! You all are incredible! Thank you!**

**Okay, it's hard to reply to reviews when there is so much, so I'll just reply to amazing ones and questions. To the others—every single reviewer—THANK YOU for leaving reviews.**

**PheonixFire1547: I don't mind. I love rants, actually. Thanks for saying that! It made my day! Thanks for loving it. :) I hope you continue that!**

**I VOLUNTEER and AISH: Thomas is already here so it'll be hard to find time to write for a sleepover. However, they had a two week skip, so maybe after this story is over, I'll write an extra one-shot about the sleepover, is that okay? **

**Moonpig: I post updates every week…around every five days or so? I try. :)**

**Minako1876: She'll be with Newt but realize something for Minho later on towards the end…but don't worry! I won't make her a two-timer! She won't be kissing Minho while she's with Newt! :)**

**Guests (there are so many guests, I suggest leaving names to make it easier?): Thanks for all the ideas/suggestions. We'll see where Andy ends up in the end. **

**Guest: Thanks for the long review! I will NOT get in the way of their bromance. I love their close relationship in the books too. And you're fantastic too! **

**Laurafxox: Your long review left a smile on my face. :) I love reading long ones. I also love Will Poulter as Gally too! I'm actually planning a Gally/OC after I finish this. I love that you reviewed in detail for the scenes. You're amazing. And thanks a hundred times again for your lengthy comment! :)**

**Glowflower: Minho and Newt won't have a fall out. Their bromance bond is too strong! X) I'm planning on stopping after this book because I have another fic planned. A sequel is still unknown…**

**IvyMoore: Wow, you're really smart. Andy **_**did **_**have some partake in the trials. We'll have to see—or read—won't we? :)**

**FrenchTifa: I just had to reply to you. You always review and it makes me happy. :) Thank you!**

**PS. Teresa will **_**not**_** be arriving in the next chapter. She will be arriving in two chapters time instead. **

**PPS. Minho/Andy (or Mindy) scenes will be more towards the end when Teresa comes, the End is triggered, he gets stuck in the Maze…etc. **

**Thank you for reading. :)**


	9. Difficulty Arises

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Maze Runner**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 9: Difficulty Arises<span>

_A young girl stood behind a desk, her figure clad in a white coat and her blond hair in a tight, neat bun. She was observing two creatures in two different plastic containers. One container had a snake. It bared its fangs wide, the deadly venom originating from its insides glistening threateningly. The other container held a huge, red scorpion. It's pincers clasped through the air menacingly while its poisonous sting at the end of the tail rose in warning._

"_I don't know, Leo," the girl sighed. "These two are perfect. I can't choose."_

_A boy about her age spun in a chair, his hands resting behind his head casually. "Then go with both. Merge them into something new."_

"_That'll kill them all," the girl answered, sending him a dirty look. "Ms. Paige strictly said only one serum conveyor. Not to kill, but just to insert the Changing serum."_

"_Forget the Chancellor," the boy scoffed. "She's telling us to do these things like we're her slaves or something. If she's so smart, why doesn't she just do it herself?"_

_The girl narrowed her eyes. "Careful, Leo."_

"_No, seriously," the boy rolled his eyes, straightening up. "She tells Teresa and Thomas to build the Maze and asks us to make these crazy mechanical Godzillas. Do you know how many time I've sent her prototypes for my monsters, but she just rejects them and says, 'make it better.' I feel like choking her everytime." _

"_Leo-"_

"_And we don't see Rach or Arris anymore. She keeps them away like they're some kind of secret weapon or something," the boy continued heatedly. "Why are we even here anyways? Why haven't we…run away…fled the country?"_

_The girl turned to him, a solemn expression on her face. She sat on a chair opposite him, placing her hands on the desk. "You know the answer to that, Leo," she replied. "We can't live out there."_

"_We aren't exactly _living _here either, are we?" he retorted bitterly. "We're just tools. Who knows what'll happen to us after we finish this? She'll maybe throw us into the damn Maze herself."_

"_Don't say that," the girl interjected sharply. "That's not gonna happen."_

"_It _can _happen, And," he said, frowning. "Why do you have so much faith in the Chancellor anyways? She's basically a demon in disguise."_

_The blond girl glared at him, jaw clenched in silent fury. "She's the closest thing I have to a mother."_

_Smirking, the boy asked, "Remember when you used to have a real mother? The mother that wanted to protect you from all this?" he smiled evilly when she clamped her fists, her eyes burning holes into his face. "Remember who killed her?"_

"_Shut up!" the girl hissed. "That woman is dead. She failed to protect me and she's dead! Both her and her husband—dead! She's a…she's-"_

"_A crank?" he spoke for her, raising an eyebrow. "You can say it. Not like it changes anything," he shrugged indifferently. "Your parents are both not immune. What makes you think you are? What makes you think WICKED doesn't know?"_

_The girl sneered, her face contorting in anger. "You're always like this. Negative in every way." _

"_I think in advance, Andy," he said. "WICKED's using us because we're smart. What next? If we're not immune—if we're both _cranks_—what makes you think they'll spare us? They're nowhere near finding that cure. It'll come down to only immunes surviving; trust me. And the cranks," he paused, giving her a grim stare. _

"…_they'll be left for dead."_

I woke up with a jolt, as if someone just electrocuted me in the back. I gasped, the familiar feeling the dreams being sucked away setting in. My hands automatically moved to my heart as I felt its fast-paced beat. I only then realized that I was breathing erratically, the sleep that was once in my eyes already gone. My back felt cold and damp as I lay back on the hammock, regaining my breath.

The dream was slowly slipping my mind like it did every single morning. I tried to reach back and grasp for something to remember, but it was all blurs. Only random voices and faces stuck, but with no memory whatsoever about any of them, they disappeared in a matter of hours.

A few days after my arrival, I started having odd dreams. Unlike I would prefer; they didn't feature unicorns, amusement parks or me falling through the sky in a parachute. Instead, what I could recall were obscure conversations, multiple faces of people I didn't recognize and random objects like animals and blueprints. None of it made any sense.

_Memories_ were what my mind tried telling me, but it was hard to believe.

After I calmed myself down, I stared up at the ceiling absentmindedly. I've never woke up sweating from a dream before. I inhaled deeply, choosing to lie and wait for a while before actually starting the day.

Like a switch flicked on in my head, I realized something—Newt wasn't in my room.

I searched around the room for any sign of Newt but found none. My eyebrows knitted in confusion, and I momentarily wondered if I woke up early that day. I placed both my feet on the cold floor and started walking to the living area where the window overlooking the Glade was.

The Maze doors were already open, and a handful of Gladers were making their way to the bathroom. The kitchen door was ajar, so I knew that at least one of the cooks were already inside. I observed the customary sight I woke up to every morning, and became aware that I didn't wake up early.

Newt's absence was weird, but I put it behind me. He was probably tired and unknowingly slept in. I wouldn't blame him—after the late night swim, I was pretty tired too. A smile appeared on my lips as I remembered the night before. The sleepiness returned to my eyes as I stretched, yawning involuntarily. I contemplated going back to sleep but chose to just start the day.

* * *

><p>When I went to breakfast that morning, I was surprised to see Minho sitting at our table. Judging by his appearance, he was supposed to be running out in the Maze, but he wasn't.<p>

"What are you doing here?" I asked as I sat on the bench opposite him.

Minho blinked at my sudden question before raising a sarcastic eyebrow. "Good morning, Minho. How are you today? Oh, I'm just fine, thank you for asking. It was very thoughtful of you."

I rolled my eyes when Minho did his 'girl voice', as he would dub it. Honestly, it sounded more like a capybara being strangled. "Morning, Min," I said.

"And good mornin' to ya," he smiled. "See? It's not bad being friendly, right? More poised and ladylike. Shuck, even a Griever has more manners than you."

"Yeah, whatever," I replied, smiling back. "But really, shouldn't you be running out there?"

Minho frowned playfully, taking a sip of his drink. "You really want me to leave, don't you?"

"It's just a question!" I laughed, shaking my head. "I mean, with Ben sick, shouldn't you be leaving earlier? Two sections and all?"

"I gave Ben's section to Peter," he shrugged nonchalantly. "The shuck-face took a leave last week because he was supposedly _sick_. Might as well use that to my advantage."

I narrowed my eyes, despite the smile on my face. "You're so evil. Poor kid," I commented. "You should've let someone else run. Maybe me? I haven't tried out for a Runner yet."

Minho stopped eating, staring at me with a stern expression. I raised a questioning eyebrow as he shook his head. "There _are _no tryouts for Runners. We get chosen by the council. And that's only when one of us…dies."

"Oh," I blinked. "Well, that's news."

"Why do you want to be a Runner anyways?" he asked, scrunching his eyebrows in puzzlement. "It's a klunk job. All we do is just run. Map. Run. Map. Same thing for three shucking years."

"Yeah, no. A klunk job is a _Slopper's _job," I said, taking a bite of my sandwich. "Besides, I don't _want _to be a Runner. I just want the pink shoes."

Minho let out a short laugh, remembering the pink shoes that I had my eyes on since I saw it. "Nah. I'd rather wait. Give 'em to another girl shank actually _interested _in running."

My lips thinned as I frowned all of a sudden. The thought of Minho giving another girl the pink shoes was…unpleasant. As a matter of fact, the thought of Minho hanging out with another girl and _running_ with her was also irksome. Firstly, the pink shoes were mine. I saw it first and claimed it—even if I didn't verbally show it. Secondly, Minho was _my _best friend. If it were any girl to be a Runner with him, it'd be me.

I blinked foolishly when I realized what I was thinking. _What the hell, Andy? _My mind chided. _This is Minho. He can spend time with other people—even girls—beside you. Don't be so selfish_.

"Yeah," I muttered, glancing down at my food. "That's probably…wiser."

"Way wiser," he agreed, smiling.

I didn't ask any more questions and chose to continue eating my breakfast, the thought of another girl arriving suddenly bugging me. All this time, I was excited for a girl but now—after thoroughly thinking about it—not so much. Being the only girl meant that I was Minho's _only _girl best friend, Chuck's _only _pretend sister and Newt's _only_ girlfriend.

Newt. Oh, what if the next girl is prettier and he decides to like her instead?

My eyebrows furrowed in resentment, as the food in my throat started tasting vile. Before I could fully project it though, I felt something cold hit my forehead. Blinking in surprise, I jerked back to see a slice of tomato fall onto my lap. I gave Minho an incredulous look. "Minho!"

"What?" he asked, chewing on his food innocently.

I picked up the tomato and waved it in his face. "What's this?"

"A tomato?" he replied, raising an eyebrow. I scoffed and flung the red fruit back at him. Minho twisted his face in disgust as it landed on his hand. "I never liked tomatoes."

Rolling my eyes, I sent him a small smile before going back to my silent breakfast. Minho sighed and threw another slice of tomato at me from his sandwich. I frowned as it landed on the table. "Min, seriously. You're wasting food."

"Oh, cheer up," he said, raising his shoulders. "You don't have to feel jealous of the make-believe girl shank."

"Wha…what?" I averted my gaze from the plate to him, gaping. "What in the world gave you that idea?"

"I know you, _babe_," he smirked. "You're an open book. Going all sulky when I mentioned the inexistent girl? Yeah, like _that _doesn't scream _envy_."

I let out a disbelieving scoff. "I don't _envy_ her. I don't even _know_ her," I exclaimed, shaking my head. "We're totally talking about a…a total imaginary person here!"

Minho chuckled, lifting both his hands up in mock-surrender. "Okay, okay. You don't have to admit it. It's cool, I understand."

"What?" Shaking my head at Minho's ignorance, I tried to deny more. "No, Min. What are you talking about? I really don't-"

Minho lifted a finger to his mouth, shushing me. My mouth was still gaping in incredulity at his accusation. He smiled and said, "S'okay. I won't tell Newt about your little insecurity."

"My god," I exhaled in exasperation. "Are you listening to yourself?"

As if he didn't hear me, Minho continued. "And she won't be a Runner. No one's getting those pink shoes. In fact, _no girl _will ever be a Runner, okay?"

All retorts that were ready to shoot out of my mouth halted as Minho uttered his last sentence. I narrowed my eyes, asking, "And why is that?"

"Well, one: running requires high stamina and girls, uh…well, boys are better at that. Two: those shoes might be for some effeminate boy. Three," Minho paused, putting a thoughtful expression on his face. Finally, he shrugged and said, "We're just better at this, I guess. More coordinated, more tenacious, stronger—the works."

I blinked, processing his reasons why girls weren't allowed to run. My eyebrows creased indignantly with his every passing word. The displeasure I owned for the fictitious girl disappeared and was replaced by…a sense of girl empowerment? Whatever it was, it was defense against Minho's comments.

"You realize that you just basically affronted…my gender, right?" I asked, raising a threatening eyebrow.

"I was just…comparing…" he trailed off, catching my menacing gaze. He threw his hands in the air, defending himself by saying, "Honesty is the best policy!"

My lips curled derisively, and I picked up the breadcrumbs on my plate. "Well, you know," I started, collecting the dust in my fist. "Some things are not meant to be told, my friend," I smiled mockingly before blowing the breadcrumbs in his face.

"Ugh!" Minho voiced, jerking back, his eyes closing from the contact of the breadcrumbs. He rubbed his eyes, dropping his sandwich on his plate. I laughed in satisfaction as he removed his hands and stared at me with watery eyes. "That was not nice!"

"Oh, and you know everything about nice. Don't you, Mr. _Nice _guy?" I retorted, smirking.

Minho scoffed, although his lips twitched in amusement. "We really still on that?"

"Yes," I answered, grinning. "Still on that."

We laughed and started chatting about random things, enjoying ourselves with the absence of our friends. I wondered where Newt, Chuck and Alby were but decided that I could just search for them later. After Minho finished eating, he stayed to talk and accompany me, insisting that his job could wait. A few minutes later, his eyes landed on someone behind me.

"Oh, look, Chucky's here…with the greenie," he said and started standing up. "Guess I can take my leave now. See ya after work, babe."

Minho ruffled my hair before turning to put his plate away. I struggled to swallow my food quickly and choked out a 'bye!' just in time. Minho turned to me once more, lifting his hand in a spontaneous salute, making me laugh. As he left, my mind unconsciously lingered on his last sentence—_see ya after work, babe_.

For some reason, it sounded so…homey.

Chuck slid into Minho's seat, and randomly said, "Ooh. Minho's butt is warm."

* * *

><p>That afternoon, I found myself sitting on a tree branch in the forest. I skipped lunch, and chose to just find a place where I could relax without being interrupted. Of course, the Ranch seemed like the more preferable location at first, but then I realized that everybody knew the place. If I was needed, that was the first place they would come knocking to.<p>

So as I sat on a tree branch—on top of a tree, obviously—I lazily swung my dangling feet. I had nothing important to think about. All I wanted was just some peace and quiet—all to myself. My mind kept drifting off somewhere, and being too consumed with the tranquility of the forest, I didn't realize that I had started humming.

The familiar tune rang in my ears as I voiced it. It was like somewhere in my head, a song was being played. Words started to float to the surface of my drowned memories, and for some reason, I felt no shock.

"Clouds will race in…storms would rage in…" I sang quietly, staring up at the tree leaves and the fractions of light cutting through the gaps. "Safe…in my arms."

The words in my brain were muddled up, and I didn't know which word went where, but as if it was instinct, my lips let each word escape correctly. "Rains will fall down…waves will crash all around…"

I continued repeating the lines I remembered over and over again, slowly building that excited feeling of remembering. A song wasn't as important as knowing who put us here, or who my parents were, or even the person I was before the Glade, but it was _something _I remembered. And I appreciated it.

A twig snapping from somewhere made my ears prick up. I stopped singing and turned my head down sharply, scrutinizing the area for any unwanted Gladers. Even when I resorted to be all alone in the Deadheads, I could still receive no peace. My head snapped to my left and my eyes immediately locked on a skinny boy in a grey shirt.

It was the greenie.

"Uh, h-hi?" he said uncertainly, scratching the back of his head. I stared him down for a moment, the fact that I was higher giving me an advantage. When I didn't answer, he continued, "I'm Thomas. The new guy."

"I know," I answered. "You thought my name was yours."

Thomas blinked, his face starting to heat up. "Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. I just…didn't know why. I don't know. It just popped in my head."

Sighing, I stood up to climb down the tree. Just like what happened countless times to every person in the Glade—we never remembered learning it, but we could do it. The same applied to my tree climbing skills. I carefully placed one foot on a tree gnarl, and felt for another with my left feet. Continuing the same thing over and over, I swiftly climbed down.

Halfway though, I heard Thomas say, "Wait…are you sure about that? You could fall and inj-"

Before he could finish his sentence, I felt that I was close enough to the ground and let go of the tree. I landed smoothly, both my feet planting on the ground without stumbling. Turning to Thomas, I gave him a smile. "What was that?"

"Uh…" he started, gaping. He shook his head slowly, settling with a: "I think you know what you're doing."

Hiding a grin, I walked over to him and folded my arms. "What are you doing here?" I asked, mock sternly.

Thomas seemed taken aback by my question, and I wondered if anyone—besides Chuck and Newt—attempted to have an actual conversation with him. He quickly recovered and replied. "Alby gave me the tour. It's over. I thought I could just…take a walk."

"Take a walk?" I scoffed, sending him a frown. "In the Deadheads? You _do _know that this place is off limits for greenies right?" Thomas's eyes widened in surprise, but as he was about to respond, I shook my head. "No. Don't interrupt me. It took me one month—one _whole _month just for me to step in this place. Now, you just come waltzing in like it belongs to ya?"

"Sorry…I guess. Uh," he paused, seeing the furious expression on my face and hearing my condescending tone. He backed up and looked down. "I didn't know. I-I'll just leave-"

My thinned lips started laughing, cutting him off. Thomas frowned in confusion, probably asking if I was in my right mind or not. I grinned and plopped down on the grass. "Minho was right. It _is _fun to torment the newbies."

Scowling at me, Thomas's eyes filled with recognition of what I just pulled. In a hard voice, he said, "Yeah. Nice to know it amuses you."

"Whoa, wait. Don't go yet," I exclaimed, grabbing his leg when he looked like he was about to turn and leave. "Relax. I once got the same treatment as you, greenie. Maybe even worse," I frowned slightly, remembering Minho's prank. "It's nice to actually do it to another greenie now."

"Well, now we know the secret to the bullying cycle, right?" Thomas retorted, rolling his eyes.

Smiling, I patted the ground to my right. "Come on, sit down," I said. "You're done with your walk?"

"Can I say no?" he asked.

"You can," I nodded and gave him an innocent stare. "But you also might just wake up with spiders in your shirt."

Thomas's lips twitched slightly. He exhaled dramatically and sat down on the grass, his legs spread out in front of him. I sent him a grin, and started pulling out some grass. In my head, I tried to think of how I should ask Thomas about me being familiar to him. Did he know who I was? I was curious, but I didn't want to him to feel uncomfortable.

"So, Thomas," I started, blowing some bits of torn grass from my hand. "You remember anything?"

"Oh. So you just wanted to interrogate me, huh?" he said, looking annoyed.

I smiled nervously, ripping the small bits of grass a bit more forcefully. "Sorry," I said. "I'm just…curious, I guess. None of us here remember anything."

"And what makes you think I do?" he raised his eyebrows, looking at me.

I scrunched my eyebrows and shrugged. "I don't know…you said I was familiar?"

Thomas scrutinized me for a moment, and sighed. He started copying me in picking grass before saying, "I thought I did at first," he raised his shoulders and shook his head. "But then it just…faded away. I don't remember anything anymore."

I felt disappointed at his answer, knowing that any hope of knowing who I was was gone, but smiled nontheless. "Yeah, I felt that too when I came up," I confessed, making him turn to me quizzically. "I heard voices, saw faces. When I got out though, all of it just disappeared," I sighed, frowning. "Like something was…sucking our memories out."

"Yeah, why would a criminal need memories, right?" he mumbled, but it was loud enough for me to hear.

"What?"

"Noth-"

"You said criminals," I spoke, narrowing my eyes. "So that's your solution?"

"It's stupid, I know," Thomas uttered. "It's just…the only thing I can think of. I mean, we must have a reason for being here, right?"

Shaking my head, I said, "No. It's not stupid. I've been where you are. I came up with my own crazy solution during my second day in the Glade."

Thomas looked up from the grass in his palms. He nodded and asked, "What was it?"

"I thought we were unwanted children," I breathed out, chuckling bitterly.

Thomas's face contorted in confusion. "Unwanted?"

"Like…orphans, illegitimate children? Maybe from teenage parents that had one night stands and decided they didn't want us…" I trailed off sullenly. "I mean, kids like us are supposed to have parents, right? Families? I find it hard to believe they just _agreed_ to put us here with no memory whatsoever." I frowned as I added, "Well, that is—if we _had_ parents."

"Why did you say that?" he asked before a pregnant silence threatened to overcome us. At my questioning gaze, he rectified. "_If_ we had parents? Like you doubt that we do."

I smiled a little and shrugged. "I don't know. It just popped into my head. I guess what I'm trying to believe is…if I _did_ have a mother, I would've appreciated it if she didn't send me here."

Thomas stared at me for a while, before looking away in a pensive mood. We felt silent, as if a cloud of quietness rained over our heads. I reflected on what I just said, and found that even I was somewhat shocked at my own words. I sounded so…hopeless. Something about Thomas just made me say that. I didn't know what, but I wanted to find out. Him knowing my name couldn't be a coincidence.

"You know, we are being totally depressive right now," I broke the silence, laughing. "Let's look at the bright side. I met Chuck and Minho and they're great buddies. And of course, I also met Newt."

When he saw my delighted smile, Thomas chuckled. "Yeah…Newt. He asked a lot about you. You guys are together, right?"

"Mhm," I nodded in affirmation, grinning. Then, I realized what Thomas said and queried, "Wait, he asked about me? When? Why?"

"Yesterday and this morning when he showed me the grievers. It's all like why I knew your name…if I knew you before and all that," Thomas answered and cracked a grin. "He was real pushy."

I laughed. "Really?"

"Yeah, he was all over me like, 'how do you know Andy?', 'do you remember her?', 'who was she to you?" he said, mimicking Newt's accent. I giggled along with his slight exaggeration of Newt's heavy accent. "He even gave me this stony look the whole time. I thought he was crazy."

"I never knew he was like that," I stated, laughing as I tried to picture Newt as Thomas portrayed. "Was he cute when he asked?"

"Really? You're seriously questioning me that?" he scoffed playfully, making me grin and nod. "I'm not really into guys, but I know you have one inquisitive boyfriend."

* * *

><p>Thomas and I conversed about random things, like how Glader talk was still strange for him, and how my tryouts with different Keepers occurred. As I told him about the jobs in the Glade, I noticed that he listened the most heedfully to my talk about the Runners. His ears picked up my every word visibly, and I mused on whether he could be one.<p>

The sound of a twig snapping made us both halt in our sentences. Thomas sent me a questioning look, to which I responded with a shrug. Another snap sounded, making me spin my head to find the source of it. Then, another one snapped.

Thomas and I hurriedly stood up, scrutinizing the area cautiously. "Who's out there?" Thomas called, his voice shaky. "Seriously, this is stupid."

The snaps and rustling of leaves started growing louder and quicker, and it also meant that it was getting closer. I saw a figure in the distance, running towards us from the forest. The person crashed through the branches, heading to where Thomas and I were located.

When the boy approached us closer, I finally got a good look at his almost unrecognizable face. He stumbled through the tree line and stopped, a deadly expression contorted on his face. My eyes widened, as I took in his scrawny body that was slightly green against his ashen skin. He didn't look any bit healthier.

"Ben?" I voiced in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Ben—the Runner who got stung—only heaved heavily, his breathing quite erratic. His whole frame shook and trembled as he glowered at Thomas. His mouth opened and closed, like he was trying to say something but couldn't. I froze, the fear creeping up my spine as he started shaking, clenching his fists.

"Ben?" I tried again. "You're sick. You should be with the Med-jacks, not here."

Before I could say anything else, he gave up staring Thomas to death. Once he did that, the ill boy in front of us screamed out and charged at Thomas. He got ready to leap into the air to tackle the greenie down, but I made sure that didn't happen.

I gasped as he approached Thomas, who was beside me. I pushed Thomas out of Ben's way and shouted, "Run, Thomas!"

Thomas didn't need a second shout to speed off into the woods, hopefully finding the right way out of the place. Ben let out a strangled cry and started chasing Thomas, bounding through the forest and vigorously pushing tree branches out of his way. Instinctively, I followed behind Ben, running carefully to make sure nothing unwanted happened.

I panted as I sprinted to catch up with Ben's inhumanely fast strides. He let a barbaric growl escape his mouth every once in a while. He did not stop or hesitate at all as he chased closely after Thomas, his hands reaching out to grab the greenie.

Thomas screamed out fearfully. "Help!"

"Stop, Ben!" I yelled out, trying to push all of the obstacles in my way to get to him. "What are you thinking? Stop it!"

Ben ignored my shouts. I saw that the trees were separating, their distance growing further between one another. We were almost out of the forest, and that meant that the whole Glade would witness Ben chasing Thomas like a madman. For what reason? I didn't know.

Thomas's shouts for help started to grow louder, and I hoped that it alerted the Gladers.

As the three of us made it out of the woods and into the familiar clearing of the Glade, Ben finally grasped the hems of Thomas's shirt and tackled him to the ground. Ben's figure slammed forcefully onto Thomas, making the latter cry out in pain. Thomas swatted and tried pushing Ben off him to no avail. Ben continued screaming insanely, his hands clawing at Thomas and scratching his skin. Thomas tried in vain to push Ben's struggling figure above him but Ben only snarled and bit Thomas's shoulder hardly.

"Get off him!" I exclaimed, kicking Ben's side to make him roll off of Thomas. "Ben, what are you doing?"

In response, Ben only left Thomas for a moment to scream in my face. His arm swung out to hit my leg as he roughly shoved me down, punching me in my stomach. I landed on my back, huffing, and looked up to see that he was already attacking Thomas again.

Loud voices and shouts filled my ear as I saw multiple Gladers running towards us, extreme surprise written across their faces. They all raced towards the two boys on the ground and tried to help Ben off Thomas. One stood out, and it was Newt. He was carrying a spade, and immediately hit Ben in the face, forcing the sick boy to jerk back from the impact. Gladers started grabbing Ben to pin him down as he thrashed violently, screaming until his throat was raw.

"What's your bloody problem?" Newt yelled at Ben, rushing over to me to help me up. Not bothering for an answer from the said boy, he asked me, "Are you okay?"

I nodded, words unable to come out due to the shaken feeling I received when I saw Ben trying to kill Thomas. "Andy?" Newt called out in concern, each of his hands on my face, searching for any injury.

"I'm fine," I replied, softly removing his hands off my face. I felt like a wimp—for only falling and not doing more to help Thomas. My eyes snapped to the injured boy on the ground, trying to stand up with Chuck's help. "But Thomas isn't."

Newt turned to look at Thomas, as did most of the Gladers. "What in the bloody world happened?"

"I don't know! He just attacked me!" Thomas answered, wincing from Ben's scratches and punches.

"It's true," I chimed in. "Ben just showed up and chased him for no reason-"

I was cut off by Ben, who shrieked: "I _have_ a reason!"

Everyone's gazes zoomed in on the sick boy—who was now standing and trying to free himself from his captors' clutches aggressively. His eyes held a wild, out of control look that sent daggers at Thomas. He breathed harshly, not giving up in trying to free himself. He let another shrill scream escape his mouth as he stepped on his captor's foot, elbowed a Glader and knocked the back of his head into one boy's face.

Ben started to crouch, springing for another attack on Thomas, but was stopped by a stern voice.

"Ben!" Alby called out, staring at the sick boy threateningly. In his hands held a large bow with an arrow cocked for the kill. "Stop right now, or ya ain't gonna see tomorrow."

"If you kill me, you'll get the wrong guy!" Ben retorted, spittle flying from his mouth viciously. "He's the shank you wanna kill."

Alby aimed his bow at Ben as the boy started stalking closer to Thomas. "One more step Ben, and you're done," he warned. "Don't be stupid. Thomas just got here—ain't nothin' to worry about. You're still jacked from the changing."

"He's not one of us!" Ben shouted. "I saw him—he's bad! We have to kill him! He's bad…he's bad…he's bad!"

"I'm warning ya, shank-"

"He'll wanna take us home," Ben said. "He'll wanna get us out of the Maze. Better we all jump off the Cliff. Better we tore each other's guts out!"

Thomas's face twisted in confusion. "What are you talking-"

"_Shut your face_!" Ben screamed. "Shut your ugly, traitorous face!"

"Ben," Alby started calmly. "I'm gonna count to three."

"He's bad," Ben said once more, swaying back and forth. His eyes locked onto Thomas's figure, staring at him with insane madness. He started chanting in a whisper, "He's bad…bad, bad, he's bad, he's bad…"

"One."

Ben didn't budge; only smiled with his greenish teeth showing. "Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad…"

"Two," Alby said, a little louder.

Letting a crazed cackle out, Ben reached into his pocket for something. In a second, a small blade whipped through the air, aiming for Thomas. "You're bad!"

"_Three_!" Alby shouted.

I gasped in shock as the sound of a wet _thunk _echoed around us, right after the _whoosh _of the arrow sliced the air. Not wanting to see what Alby had done to Ben, I leaned in to Newt, closing my eyes. Automatically, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to him and slanting to the side to shield me from seeing Ben's consequence.

Alby sensed that questions would be asked after the silence prolonged. So before anyone could ask, he said, "Come on. Back to work. Baggers'll take care of him."

One by one, the Gladers gave Ben a final look before walking away. The situation seemed so surreal—it was hard for me to adjust to the fact that Ben was _dead_. The other boys just left without any remorse written on their faces though, and I wondered why. Was Ben a bad person or something? I've talked with him a few times, and he was nice enough. _So why were they acting like they didn't care?_"

"You okay now?" Newt asked carefully.

I nodded, backing away from him. Knowing that Ben's body was in full view if I turned left, I looked down. "Yeah, I guess so. I just…don't want to see."

"You don't have to," Newt answered, placing his hands on my shoulder to turn me, so I wasn't facing Ben's body. I mumbled a 'thanks' and sighed. Newt eyed me tentatively before asking, "What happened?"

"Ben happened," I said, my eyebrows knitting. "Thomas and I were talking and he just…came out of nowhere. Then he started chasing and, well, you know the rest."

It sounded so simple coming out of my mouth. In reality, it was way more intense. Newt glanced at Ben before looking back at me. He slipped his hand into mine like he always did and said, "Come on. You look like you need somethin' to eat."

"No," I shook my head, feeling nauseous at the thought of food. "I don't think I can after…_that_."

"Okay," he nodded. "Then lets just go somewhere to get your mind off this."

When I looked up at his face, I saw his assuring smile beaming through the shaken situation I was just in. I smiled back and gripped his hand tighter, thankful that he was nice enough to care. I nodded as Newt smiled, placing a kiss on my head before leading me across the Glade.

* * *

><p>That evening, I sat by the Deadheads with Chuck and Thomas. Chuck was ranting about some prank he pulled with Thomas last night but I wasn't listening. Ben's accusations of Thomas kept appearing in my head, and despite the greenie seeming totally confused and not guilty, I couldn't help but feel suspicious of him.<p>

I've never witnessed someone going through the Changing before—Ben was the first one. According to Newt and some of the other Gladers, those who go through the changing never come back the same again. Ben was always nice and polite to me, and to see him eager to murder Thomas was scary. He had to have a reason for wanting to do it, but he couldn't be taken seriously in his condition.

I knew that the Changing revived some old memories of ours, so what did he exactly see?

_Curiosity killed the cat_ said my mind. I rolled my eyes and replied with: _Thank god I'm human then_. I frowned when I realized that I was talking to myself in my head.

"Andy? Are you listening? It was Gally!" Chuck guffawed. "The person in the bathroom was Gally!"

I snapped out of my thoughts and sent the young boy a smile. "That must've been bad. What'd he do?"

"He got mad at Thomas here, of course!" he answered, poking the boy next to him. "The shank looked like he was about to klunk his pants!"

Thomas snorted. "Yeah, who's fault was it to leave me there?"

"You left him, Chuck?" I laughed. "Poor kid. Gally threatened to punch you or something?"

"I don't know. He started talking crazy…" Thomas huffed. "He's an asshole."

I immediately frowned, not liking what he termed Gally. "He's not bad when you get to know him."

"I don't think I _want_ to get to know him," Thomas replied.

Remembering what Gally said to me when Thomas arrived made my suspicion increase more. Gally said he had seen Thomas before, and Gally had been through the changing once. It couldn't be a coincidence how Ben recognized Thomas immediately after his Changing.

Chuck suddenly asked, "Hey, what do ya think the Gathering's about?"

Newt told me that Alby called a Gathering immediately after Ben was taken away by the Baggers. He said that it had something to do with Ben and Thomas, and punishments and more. I didn't know what the punishments were for, since Ben was dead.

"About Ben, I think," I answered and averted my eyes to Thomas. "And you."

Thomas sighed, his face covered with annoyance. I knew that no one blamed him, but to have Ben chasing him when he barely knew Thomas? It was strange.

My eyes snapped to the doors when I saw a familiar boy run in, clad in his electric blue shirt and his perfectly stiff trademark hair. It was still early for him to come back but I sighed in relief, not wanting to spend any more time with Thomas. It's not that I didn't like him, but I was skeptical of his presence. And quite frankly, Minho was better company than him.

"I'll see you guys later," I said to Chuck and Thomas, standing up to catch up with Minho before he reached the Map Room. "I'm gonna talk to Minho."

I heard Thomas ask Chuck who Minho was as I walked away, and barely heard his response of 'he's the keeper of the Runners.' I jogged over to the Map Room, intending to arrive there before Minho. I stood in front of the door, waiting for Minho to arrive. When he got closer, I noted that he had an irritated expression on his face. His eyebrows were knitted in a frown, and he only frowned even more when he saw me.

Confused at his emotion, I just smiled and said, "Hi-"

"What are you doing here?" he interrupted, panting as he stopped in front of me.

I blinked, taken aback by his sharpness, but just blamed it on his exhaustion. "Hey, Andy. How are you? I'm fine, thanks for asking. It was very thoughtful of you," I mocked him, rolling my eyes.

Minho sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Look, I don't time for you right now, Andy. I just ran halfway through my section when the shuck-face, Jack, found me and said there was a Gathering," he explained impatiently, pushing past me so he could open the door. "And I'm late, so excuse me."

His ignorance stung, but I brushed it off. "Can I come in?" I asked, hoping that he would say yes. I knew that he was in a hurry, and honestly, I didn't fully know why I asked that.

"Not today," he said, unlocking the padlock on the door.

I scrunched my eyebrows and questioned, "Why not?"

"Because," Minho huffed, his voice laced with annoyance. "I need to map and get to the klunk Gathering, okay?"

"Oh," I replied pathetically. Desperate to spend time with _someone _that wasn't Thomas, I boldly asked, "Can't you…_skip_ the Gathering?"

Minho froze as the padlocked unfastened. He gazed at me in disbelief, his lips slightly agape. "Do you even _know_ what you're saying? You think I can just skip a Gathering because I want to?" he asked, frowning. "Why do you think I arrived here back extra early? A Gathering isn't a casual meet up, Andy. It's shuckin' serious. Get that in your head."

Surprised at his chastise, I shut my mouth. I stepped back ashamedly and said, "Sorry, I was just…asking."

"Well, stop. You're wasting my time. I need to go," he retorted harshly, opening the door and going inside.

I opened my mouth to say something—anything—before he could close the door. "O-Okay, um, sorry again-"

"_Why_ are you still here?" he snapped, looking peeved. Before I could retort, he pointed to no distinct direction and said, "Go. I don't have time right now."

Frowning, I answered quickly, "Okay, okay. I'll go…relax," I huffed indignantly. Hiding the hurt I felt, I backed away. "Gosh. What's your problem?" I muttered.

"Go!" Minho shouted, ignoring my question. "Shuck it, don't you understand anything?"

He slammed the door loudly, sending a sharp gust of wind at me. My mouth fell open in shock, as my eyes stared at the door widely. I felt my chest constrict, and the rejection crawl into my body as he shouted at me. I bit my lip to avoid it trembling. Minho had never snapped at me like that. Sure, it may have been because of the pressure of having to run back fast and because he was late, but it still hurt. Since nobody had ever screamed at me since I arrived, I felt dejected.

Glowering at the door, I turned around sharply and headed for the Ranch. Instead of being sad, I chose to be angry. Just because he was irritated, didn't mean that he could take it out on me. I didn't do anything to him.

I heard the door swing open behind me, but I ignored it and stomped off. I didn't turn back in fear Minho would scold me again, and also because I had _some _sense of pride.

* * *

><p>"He just blew up! I don't know why," I huffed. "I didn't even <em>do<em> anything! I didn't have the _chance_ to, because he screamed in my face and told me to go!"

Newt listened attentively, watching me pace back and forth in my room while ranting about Minho's outburst. He had come to find me after the Gathering and asked me what was wrong when I sulked. I immediately told him everything that happened with Minho and how annoyed I was. Newt—being the patient person he is—only forbore my rants and nodded whenever I asked a rhetoric question.

"I mean, I just said hi. _Hi_! Is that such a crime?" I scoffed. "He just looked at me like I was the devil or something and said 'what are you doing here?'" I mocked his deep voice. "And then he told me to leave and implied that I didn't know anything! I'm not _stupid_, Newt."

Newt nodded, seeming like he was holding back a smile. I frowned and said, "Don't smile! It's not…funny or happy! He was treating me like I was an idiot and just snapped at me! It's not my fault he had to run back to be at the Gathering. It's his fault for being a Keeper! I'm innocent. He's just…he's just so…so infuriating! Ugh!"

"Andy-" I cut Newt off.

"It's so rude! Do you ever just come back from work or just had a bad day or something, and-and…blow up at people? No!" I hissed, throwing my hands up in the air. "I don't do that! I'm nice enough to know that I need to _calm down_ before scolding others! He doesn't care—he's rude!"

Newt sat up from my hammock and walked closer to me, smiling. "Andy, it's just-"

"And he slammed the door in my face! He _slammed_ it, Newt! Like I was some piece of klunk he put out the door for the garbage men to pick up," I carried on, still feeling annoyed and wanting to vent my anger. "Who does he think he is? Sure, he's the _almighty_ _Keeper of the Runners_, so what? Friends don't treat each other like that. He thinks he can just blow off like that? Is he on drugs or or something? Do you _have_ drugs in the Glade? Like steroids for Runners so they keep in shape? Has Gally been giving him his secret drink or something? Because he's really a j-"

"Andy!" Newt called, clutching my face in his hands to face him. I huffed, forced to stop my pacing to look at Newt's amused grin.

"It's not funny," I grumbled, stomping my feet on the concrete lightly.

Newt laughed and nodded. "Okay, it's not funny," he said. "But he didn't mean it." I frowned and was about to open my mouth to retort when he placed a finger to silence me. "It's Minho, Andy. You know him. I know him. Shuck, everyone knows him. He's, uh, he's…he's Minho. I don't even know how to describe him."

The corner of my lips curled into a small smile, understanding him perfectly. "But _Minho_," I rolled my eyes, annoyed at the said boy. "Doesn't just blow up at people on a daily basis."

"Yeah, but you've only known him for a month. I've known him for years; he's like that under pressure. Just give him a few days and everything'll be back to normal," Newt smiled reassuringly. "Maybe the shank'll even apologize at dinner," Newt continued as his eyebrows knitted slightly. Hesitantly, he added, "he cares about you."

I scoffed, folding my arms stubbornly. "Yup. I totally saw that by the way he told me off."

"Oh, come on," Newt exhaled, chuckling at my resentment for some reason. "You're going to make up with him sooner or later. He's your best friend."

"_Chuck's _my best friend," I corrected him, scowling. "And you."

Newt grinned and tapped my nose, which made me a little confused. "No, I'm your boyfriend."

"Well, yeah," I laughed, placing both my arms around his shoulders. "That too, I guess."

Gasping in pretense surprise, he repeated, "I _guess_?"

"Mhm," I nodded, glaring at him playfully. "You haven't kissed me all day."

"Haven't I?" Newt frowned, despite the smile on his face, evidently playing along.

I shook my head, leaning up to pull him to me. "Nope," I whispered and pressed my lips to his. Newt's lips spread into a smile as he kissed me back, his lips gliding gently against mine. Welcoming his familiar warm lips, I interlaced my fingers together, pulling him closer. He sighed as I nibbled on his bottom lip, and deepened the kiss.

After a few seconds, we both pulled away to breath. Newt leaned his forehead against mine as I smiled softly. "Hi," I breathed out.

Newt chuckled and said, "Hi." A comforting silence spread throughout the room, but it didn't take Newt long to break it. "So, back to the original topic-"

"No…" I groaned, my head falling on his chest. "Can we just go back to five seconds ago?"

Laughing, Newt propped me back up. "I wish, but I'd be late."

Tilting my head in confusion, I asked, "Late for what?"

"For…oh, I haven't told you," Newt's statement came out more as a question, and I scrunched my eyebrows. I shook my head as he sighed, running his hand through his hair. "It's about Ben."

"What? Is there a funeral or something?"

Newt shook his head slowly, frowning. "No…he's not dead, actually," he revealed. My eyes widened in a comical manner, a muted 'what?' escaping my mouth. Like he could read my mind, he continued, "The shanks's still alive. Alby just injured his jaw. He's all patched up by the Med-jacks now."

"So…he's not dead?" I asked for confirmation, and Newt nodded. I let a shaky breath out, stating, "He's alive."

"Not for long," Newt said. "He's being banished in about half an hour."

I frowned, the word seeming alienated to my knowledge. "Banished?"

"It's, um, our way of punishing," Newt explained. "We banish him. An exile. Out to the Maze before the doors close."

"So…" I trailed off, the idea of what will happen to Ben being trapped in the Maze approaching my head. "You're gonna kill him?"

Newt frowned, opening his mouth to retort, but then closed it. He nodded uncertainly, shrugging. "Yeah."

I stayed quiet, thinking of Ben and what he did to Thomas. Hearing that he wasn't dead wasn't as shocking as I thought it would be, but it's probably due to the fact that I wasn't sure—I refused to look at his body earlier. Knowing that he was _going _to die made my stomach churn, since he was practically going to be murdered by the Gladers. No one survived a night in the Glade because of the Grievers, and I knew that Ben wouldn't have luck on his side.

"Do I have to go?" I asked Newt, feeling sick all of a sudden. "To the Banishment. Is it compulsory?"

"Um, I'd actually prefer it if you _don't_ go. It wouldn't be something you'd like to see," Newt answered truthfully. "It's your choice, though."

Nodding, I released a deep breath. "I think I'll just stay here."

"Good that," Newt smiled slightly, caressing my hand. He pressed a feathery kiss to my head and said, "I need to go get ready for it. I'll meet you at dinner?"

I smiled, humming a murmur of agreement. "Yup. I'll have to get to the kitchen later to make dinner anyways."

Newt released my hand and walked to the door. Before he could leave though, he turned to me. "But really, you should try talking to Minho later. I'm sure the shank didn't mean it."

"You know what?" I sighed heavily, the annoyance returning as I remembered the Runner. "Maybe I won't be at dinner."

Newt only laughed and waved goodbye as he left. As I heard the front door close, I sat down on my hammock, dreading the minutes I had until Ben's Banishment. The trepidation settled into me as I thought—would he scream? Would he put up a fight? Would he just accept his exile and leave peacefully?

I guess I just had to wait and see.

* * *

><p>When I heard the first scream come from Ben, my eyes snapped to my door, where I could just run out and see his Banishment easily. My legs refused to move though, so I just breathed in deeply and tried to block his loud protests.<p>

"Please! Somebody help me!" I heard Ben yelled out in desperation. Even from inside the Ranch, his cries were loud enough for my ears to pick up. Ben continued screaming, his voice growing strangled. "You can't do this to me!"

Betraying my choice to stay inside my room and ignore Ben's shrieks, I made my way to the living area where the window was.

Immediately, my eyes landed on the crowd of Gladers by the East wall. I squinted to see a long pole being held by Alby, Newt, and followed by Bill and the rest of the Keepers. I let my eyes wander over to Ben, his hands clutching a leather loop around his neck. My face contorted in a mixture of sad, pity, disgust and disbelief. How the Gladers managed to witness and pull off such an inhuman act was beyond me, but I suppose that was how they ran the safety of the Glade.

"No, no, please!" Ben tried crying out again as he neared the gaping doors. "_Please_! I swear I'll never do it again! Don't do this, please…!"

The gravelly sound of Ben's screams made me cringe. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. The Keepers forced Ben into the Maze, his body disappearing from my sight as it entered the dreadful place. The pole vanished deeper into the Maze, the Keepers still keeping a firm hold on it.

"_Please_!" I heard Ben's shrill cry that sent a stinging pain into my chest.

A loud, thundering boom sounded through the Glade as the doors started to close. The rumbling continued as the giant stones grated against the floor, reaching out towards their compatible other. I swallowed hard as Ben screamed out once more, louder than any of his previous screams. This one was filled with intense terror and fright—a scream someone would create when they were forced to die.

"Keepers, _now_!" Alby shouted.

I watched in silence as the pole moved in deeper, past the two giant walls. Ben's desperate screams were still perceived, astonishingly louder than the grinding of the rocky walls. Soon, the Keeper in front was only a few centimeters from the wall. With a nod from Alby, he somehow yanked the pole back into the Glade, leaving the unfortunate boy out in the Maze, awaiting his doom.

"_Noooooooo_-" Ben's piercing, haunting screams were cut off as the walls closed with a terrible boom. Nothing but the indistinct sound of his lunatic cries was heard; but the heavy silence that suspended over the Glade was way louder.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Next chapter will be Teresa's arrival, and something bad will happen. Well, I think it's bad. And thank you for all the follows and favorites! **

**Guest: Thanks for reviewing! I'll make sure more Mindy scenes will turn up towards the end. And thank you for your suggestion. I hope ya keep loving this! :)**

**Guest: Thank you! It's great to know! I'll make sure more AndreaMinho moments happen! :)**

**Butterflyroses: I pronounce it as An-dree-ah, but you can pronounce it however you want. People mostly call her Andy though, and there's only one way to pronounce that…I think. And thanks for reviewing! :)**

**AnimeLover-DarkKnights321: Thank you! :)**

**UMakeMeLoveU: Thank you for the lengthy review! I love those. I ship Minewt to, and Thominho and Newtmas, just saying. Their bromances are just awesome. Thanks for loving my OC! And your suggestion really gave me ideas, so thank you. You are amazing. :)**

**JinLing: Thank you! Keep loving. :)**

**GirlWhosWaiting: Wow. Such a long review—I love it. Your proposal about them made me smile, and I will try to create something along those lines…maybe a bit different. And **_**please**_** don't check my other stories, because they are **_**awful**_**. I just started writing again this year and my older crappy works were from, like, two/three years ago when I was an idiot. Anyways though, thank you! :)**

**Lottielue1: Thanks for reviewing! Teresa's coming, so you'll find out then, won't you? :)**

**differentbutuniq: A long one. You make **_**my**_** day, person. And thanks for your point out, I totally didn't realize that. I've corrected it, though! You write so much that it makes me feel guilty that I'm replying with only a few words! I don't know what to say besides that YOU ARE AMAZING. And great, and phenomenal and just…all the synonyms to that. Thanks for your detailed review of every character! And sorry about your laptop catching fire…oh, see what I did there? Catching Fire. Sorry, I'm just Hunger Game crazy right now. Thanks again! :)**

**Newtella: Thanks for the review! The first ones always make me happy. :)**

**Thanks for reading!**


	10. The Unexpected Happens

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Maze Runner.**

**Warning: Slight profanities.**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 10: The Unexpected Happens<span>

The next day, I didn't go to breakfast straightaway after cooking. Instead, I went back to the Ranch and looked out the window. My eyes were firmly locked on the Runner clad in blue, still eating his breakfast with Newt and Alby at our usual table. Occasionally, his eyes or Newt's eyes would stray to the Ranch, and I would duck and hide under the window so they wouldn't see me.

It wasn't that I was scared to approach Minho—_maybe_ I was—I just didn't know what I should say to him.

I came to terms yesterday that maybe I was annoying him by approaching him right after he came back from running. Adding up the Gathering, him only managing to run half of his section and Ben being stung and banished, it must've been a harsh day for him. So the question I've been pondering on still remains—should I apologize or should I let him apologize, or should we just forget it ever happened and chill out like normal?

After a few minutes of ducking under the window, I let my head raise to continue observing the Keeper of the Runners. Unfortunately for me, Newt was looking my way and caught me. Immediately, I fell back to the floor, grumbling to hide my embarrassment.

Sitting on the floor, I waited for a few minutes more before slowly peeking out from the window. Newt wasn't looking anymore, and I sighed in relief. Minho was still eating, which made me huff. _How long does it take for a Runner to eat_? I asked myself. I tapped the cement floor to pass the time, looking at the clock hung in the room every now and then.

The next time I took a look at the table, Minho was already gone. I searched the Glade and saw that he was making his way to the North door. Before he ran out though, he turned back to look in my direction, and I quickly stooped under the window—yet again. I could swear I saw Minho smirk when he caught me. I frowned, muttering to myself about my incoordination. I bravely tilted my head upwards, letting only my eyes and head peek out. To my surprise, Minho was still there, and waved at me before running out.

I stood up and dusted myself off before walking out of the Ranch; my head held high in trying to hide my embarrassment.

"I take it you had fun being undercover?" Newt asked, smirking, as I arrived at the table.

I sat down on the bench, opposite him, and scowled. "We are never speaking about this again."

* * *

><p>Chuck and I were by the clothesline that evening. He was removing the dried clothes and throwing them at me, who in return stuffed them into a woven basket. A cook's job wasn't all that hard in the Glade really—breakfast, lunch and dinner. Those three periods were the only time I had to be at the kitchen. Outside of that, I was free. So with my free time, I decided to hang out with Chuck.<p>

"Are you and Minho fighting?" Chuck suddenly asked as he flung another rolled up shirt at me. I swiftly caught the clothing and placed it with the others.

"Who told you that?" I asked casually, propping my chin up with the basket.

"Newt said you skipped dinner last night cause of him," Chuck answered. "And then Minho sorta…told me to make you another bracelet to apologize."

I smiled when Chuck revealed Minho's intent, but then narrowed my eyes. "_Told_ you to make a bracelet?"

"Well…it was more of a command," he replied, smiling widely as he threw another piece of clothing at me. I saw through his smile though, and raised an eyebrow. He sighed and said, "Okay. Maybe he did threaten to make me wash every Runner's shoes, but it was halfhearted. False. An empty promise."

"Mhm, I'm sure it was," I nodded, smiling sarcastically. Then, I breathed out and shrugged. "It wasn't serious or anything...just a little misunderstanding."

Chuck nodded, and went back to removing the clips and clothes from the line. Hesitantly, he then said, "Minho looked sorry."

I snapped my eyes to Chuck, seeing him quickly turn away and covering his face with a few piled clothes in his arms. "Let me guess," I mused, rolling my eyes. "He also put you up to tell me how _sorry _and _pitiful _he looked, so I'd feel bad, didn't he?"

"Uh…" Chuck smiled sheepishly, walking over to me and dropping the many pieces of clothing from his hands onto me. "Maybe."

I blew some hair out my face in annoyance, pulling the clothes off of myself. I couldn't help but smile at Chuck though, and playfully swatted a shirt at his leg. "You need to stop listening to him, Chucky."

As we laughed, someone else suddenly showed up. Thomas panted as he arrived, plopping down next to me. I quirked an eyebrow in curiosity as Chuck asked, "Whoa. What's up with you, greenie?"

"Thomas," he wheezed out, holding an index finger at Chuck, signaling him to wait. "Not greenie."

Newt already told me this morning that Thomas would be with him and Zart, trying out as a Track-hoe. Judging by his disheveled appearance, his quality time didn't go well. I smirked and inquired, "How was gardening?"

"Awful," was his immediate answer. "Newt ordered me to go and dig up the fertilizer. Then I had to yank out the weeds. Then I had to hack off this tree stump…I don't know what for."

Remembering my supposedly easy Track-hoe tryout, I laughed. "Well, I guess I _did_ get the easiest track-hoe job for my tryout."

"Yeah? What?" Thomas asked.

"Planting seeds," I confessed, smiling unashamedly. "And picking out tomatoes."

"And you…failed?" Thomas raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Badly."

The three of us laughed as we continued talking, wasting time by the clothesline. Chuck sat down in front of Thomas and I after he finished taking off all of the clothes form the wire.

I listened as they talked, my eyes traveling to the door every now and then. I was waiting for Minho to come back, and maybe talk to him about his outburst yesterday. After I skipped dinner last night and waited until he was gone for breakfast this morning, I realized that it was a really ridiculous thing to do. I should just apologize, and then move on to being best friends again.

A loud, resounding alarm suddenly burst through the Glade, making me jump. The familiar sound grew loud as I frowned in confusion, registering that it was the _greenie _alarm. I whipped my head around to look at the Box, wondering why the sound was blaring when Thomas had only arrived two days before. Alarms didn't go off when supplies came—only newbies. And they come strictly only once a month.

"I-I've heard this sound," Thomas spoke, standing up when he observed the other Gladers running to the Box with mixed emotions splattered across their faces. "Why is everyone freaked out?"

"It's the Box," I breathed out in bewilderment, standing up too.

"So?"

"_So?_" I replied, my jaw dropping slightly. "Didn't Alby tell you? We get greenies once a month, Thomas. Not in three days."

* * *

><p>The alarm in the Glade stopped blaring, but the alarm in my head didn't. Thomas, Chuck and I made it to the Box, along with the other baffled Gladers. Squeezing through the Gladers, I arrived in front of the Box, Thomas and Chuck missing from my sides. I looked around for them, and saw them a few Gladers away from where I was.<p>

"What the bloody hell?" I heard a voice pant from behind me.

I turned to see Newt, eyes wide in disbelief and also a hint of excitement. I shrugged my shoulders, not thoroughly understanding what was going on. All I knew was that something was wrong. "I thought you said that greenies come once a month," I whispered to him.

Newt turned to me and nodded, then shook his head as he snapped his head back to the unopened lids of the Box. "They _do._"

I wanted an explanation, but he didn't seem to have one. He looked almost as puzzled as I was, in fact. Alby and Gally were across me, their expressions just like the rest of the Gladers—a mixture of disbelief and bewilderment. It was obvious by Newt's answer and the faces of all of the boys that this had never happened before. The curiosity everyone shared stirred in me, and I felt like ripping the lids off to see who was coming.

The box hadn't arrived yet however, judging from the rattling of metal and the sounds of pulleys clanging as they're being pulled. My heart raced in immense trepidation for some reason. So what if it was just another greenie? That wasn't bad. The only difference was that he came two days after Thomas.

Maybe the Creators made a mistake. Maybe their system—whatever it was—malfunctioned.

All sorts of thought ran through my head—bad ones and good ones—but none of them helped ease the fear creeping into me. _Something is wrong_, my mind told me. _Bad things are coming!_ I shook my head, somehow wishing that the tiny voice at the back of my mind would just disappear. _You shouldn't be here right now!_

_Boom_.

My eyes snapped to the box as the muffled sound announced the arrival of the dreadful box. In anticipation, I took a few steps closer to the contraption as both Alby and Newt took their positions on opposite sides of the shaft doors.

With a metallic scrape, the doors were opened. I peeked over the box to inspect the newbie, as did those that were near.

My heart audibly stopped as a disbelieved breath rolled out of my lips. My eyes widened automatically as they landed on the figure in the Box—clad in a pale blue shirt and a similar capris that I owned. The silence in the Glade seemed to mirror my mental mind; I couldn't think straight. My only train of thought was about the greenie:

It was a girl.

* * *

><p>It took me a few minutes to actually comprehend the fact. And once I did, I breathed out, "Oh my god. Finally."<p>

With a sudden jerk, Newt pushed himself back into an upright position, his face scrunched up in confusion. He exchanged a glance with me before turning to look around at nothing in particular. "Holy…" he voiced.

"No way," Alby's voice discerned through the silence.

Questions started erupting all of a sudden as everyone began pushing forward to catch a glimpse of the newbie. I ignored the shoves I felt behind me and stared at Newt. He looked back at me and I raised both of my eyebrows, mentally asking, _what is going on_? Like he understood me perfectly, he shrugged, a confounded expression crossing his face.

"Hold on!" Alby yelled, silencing everyone. "Just hold on!"

"Well, what is it?" someone asked.

Alby stood up, shaking his head. "Two newbies in three days. Two years, nothin' different, now this," he paused, and looked straight at Thomas. "What's goin' on here, greenie?"

"Wha…" Thomas trailed off, his face turning bright red in confusion. "How am I supposed to know?"

"Just tell us what's the shuck's down there, Alby!" Gally called out from behind Alby. More murmurs started rising, and Alby sighed in frustration.

"You shanks shut up!" he yelled and turned to the blonde boy beside him. "Tell 'em, Newt."

Newt looked down one more time before facing the crowd, gravely. "It's a girl."

The shock only hit the Gladers about a second before they got over it. Everyone started talking at once, and the comments I heard on my first day started all over again.

"_Another_ girl?"

"I got dibs!"

"What does she look like?"

"How old is she?"

"I have first shot!"

I frowned as I heard a few unpleasant remarks, and stood up straight. Sending a threatening glare at the Gladers around me, I said, "Any of you talk about _dibs_ or _shots_ with her, and you'll wake up tomorrow with honey and ants over you."

The murmurs quieted down, and a few of the boys that made the remarks looked away when I met their eyes. For some reason, I felt protective over the girl. Something in me told me that I knew her. She was familiar. I've seen her ink black hair before, but I just _don't remember_. If I did know her in the past though, I didn't want anyone talking about her like she was some dishcloth to use.

"That's not bloody half of it," Newt said over the ruckus, pointing into the Box. "I think she's dead."

Silence fell upon the Gladers as Gally and Alby dropped into the Box, getting ready to hoist her out. Something about Newt's statement made me frown in confusion. I shook my head, saying, "It can't be. Why would they send a dead girl up? There's no motive to that."

Newt's eyes snapped to mine, looking solemn as the rest of the boys were. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He finally settled on shrugging cluelessly.

Gally and Alby were about to crouch and hoist the girl out of the Box, when she suddenly sprang to life, gasping and staring at the sky with wide, electric blue eyes. Gally and Alby instantly stumbled back in shock, and the Gladers immediately crowded around the Box again.

The girl's eyes darted back and forth, from Glader to Glader and finally stopping at someone to my left. Her eyes constricted in recognition, as she gasped out, "Thomas!" In unison, every Glader shifted their eyes from her to Thomas. If it weren't for the serious situation, I would have laughed at how comical it looked.

She didn't stop right there though. "Andy?"

My head instantly snapped back to the girl, wide-eyed. It briefly registered in my brain that she called my name—my _nickname_—out. I blinked, scrunching my eyes in bewilderment. She stared back at me, something flicking in her eyes. She started breathing harshly, going back to looking at the Gladers.

A sudden urge to calm her down rushed over me, and not quite in my right mind, I said, "Ter, calm down. It's okay-"

"_Everything is going to change_."

Her voice—a different, hollow and haunted one—spoke clearly. Her eyes seemed to return back to normal as she held her fist out in my direction. Before I could ask what it was, she fell back onto the hard, metal floor—out cold.

_Ter_, I remembered. Why did I call her Ter? Nobody else seemed to hear my quick enunciation. Was that her name? How did I know that? Questions flooded through my mind, but one statement stood out: _You know her_. I knew her? Maybe I did, but the never-ending excuse remained; I don't remember.

Without any warning, I jumped down into the Box.

"Hey, what are you-"

"She wanted to give me something," I interrupted Gally, walking over to her. Sparing a glance at the girl, I crouched down to her clenched fist by her side, and slowly separated her fingers from what she was holding—a wadded piece of paper. I quickly unfolded it, continuing to say, "There's a note."

"Well then," Alby voiced impatiently from in front of me. "What does it say?"

I looked up at Newt and shakily gave him the paper. The message on it sent a sense of terror in my heart for some reason. Even the black, thick ink left a frightening aura around it. Reading the note, Newt shot me an unreadable look and turned to the Gladers.

He took a deep breath before repeating what was on the note. "She's the last one. Ever."

* * *

><p>I studied the girl as Clint and Jeff went to get a carrier to carry her to the med-room. I briefly wondered why one of them didn't just carry her since she looked so slim and frail. She must've weighted almost nothing.<p>

I felt a pang of jealousy hit me as I observed her physical appearance. She had skin that was pale—paper pale—and against her tar black hair, it contrasted beautifully. Her slender built was noticeable by her tight-fitting blue shirt. Combining her features with her blue eyes that stared back at me just a minute ago, I had to admit:

She was gorgeous.

_Stop it, Andy_, my mind scolded me. _This isn't the time to think that_.

I frowned and shook my head, trying to get rid of both the voice and my envy towards the comatose girl. I hesitantly glanced up at Newt, and sighed in relief when I saw that he was busy with Alby. The fear of him being attracted to another girl was always just at the back of my mind—since there used to be no _other girl…_but now there was. And the fact that she was stunning made me a tad bit insecure.

Alby was interrogating Thomas—who denied any knowledge of the girl—and I could see that the second greenie was losing his patience. A few minutes later, Clint and Jeff were running back to the Box with a carrier in tow.

"Does she look familiar? Any kinda feelin' you've seen her before?" Alby kept asking Thomas.

"_No_," Thomas pressed, rolling his eyes. "I _don't_ _know_, okay? Why are you grilling me like this?"

"Shuck it, it can't be a coincidence," Alby said. "Two days, three greenies. First Ben tries to kill ya, then the girl comes up and says _your _name."

Thomas's jaw flexed visibly, and he exhaled heavily. "Seriously, Alby. I don't know. I remember just as much as all of you do. And she didn't just say my name—she said Andy's too."

Alby eyes lit up in realization. His head turned to meet me, and he narrowed his eyes. "You got somethin' you wanna tell us, Andrea?"

I let my eyes wander over to girl, trying to think of anything that connected her to me. "No," I shrugged after awhile. "Even if I _did_ know her before, I don't remember anything now."

"Yeah, well," Alby huffed, dragging his hands down his face in exasperation. "You don't feel anything coming back to you—at all? Any reminders, her face maybe, a name-"

"You said it yourself, Alby," I cut him off coolly, leaning against the box. "_Our_ names are the only thing they let us keep."

The leader sighed, giving Thomas and I dirty looks. "But for some reason, _he_ remembered _your_ name when he got here," he said, jerking his head to Thomas. "And that_ girl_ said _both_ your names. So something's whacked with ya both, and I ain't restin' until I find out what."

Frowning at Alby's extreme suspicion towards Thomas and I, I shook my head. "Alby, just think about it. If I _did_ remember anything from my past—_anything_ at all—would I be standing here having this conversation with you? No. I'd be squealing like a pig, jumping off my feet and running around like an idiot with a hundred thousand megawatt grin on my face."

A few Gladers that were in hearing distance snickered, as Alby rolled his eyes and sighed. Turning to the Gally, he helped hoist the girl out of the Box. The rope they usually brought to use was lying forgotten at the edge of the Box. I released a heavy breath and leaned back against the Box.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to see Newt peering down at me. "You okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," I smiled a small smile. "Just trying to remember something. Anything. I don't know."

"Don't sweat yourself," Newt chuckled, ruffling my hair. I scowled and swatted his hand away. "You'll get wrinkles."

"Shut up," I laughed, playfully punching his limped leg.

Clint and Jeff had already examined the girl's pulse and breathing, and confirmed that everything seemed right. Some of the braver—or reckless—Gladers crowded around the unconscious girl, whispering among themselves. I frowned as their comments and remarks reached my ears.

"Who said Clint had first shot with her?" a boy yelled from the crowd, resulting in several barks of laughter. "I'm next!"

Folding my arms, I cleared my throat loudly. "I'm sorry. What did I say about _dibs_ and _shots_?"

The boy that yelled out the bold remark caught my intimidating gaze and rolled his eyes. For some vague reason though, he backed away from the girl. I looked back at her, seeing her figure lay almost lifelessly on the stretcher. A tiny wave of pity washed over me. She wouldn't wake up like us in the Box—instead, she'll wake up in the Med-room, surrounded by people she didn't recognize. I just imagined how rough her wake would be.

"So what do we do with her?" Jeff asked, placing his hands on the stretcher's handles, ready to lift her up.

"How should I know?" Alby replied. "You two are the buggin' Med-jacks—figure it out."

"She seems fine. Breathing okay, normal heartbeat. I'd say she's in a coma," Clint clarified before turning to his partner. "Jeff, let's take her to the Homestead. And get Wright, too. The shank should be here somewhere."

The two boys wrapped their hands around the holders on the made-up stretcher and counted. "One…two…three!"

With a quick jerk, they lifted her into the air. It almost seemed like they were throwing her up in the air by the way she bounced off and back onto the fabric. She was obviously a lot lighter than they thought.

"Guess we'll see what she does," Jeff said to no one in particular. "We can feed her soupy stuff if she doesn't wake up soon."

"Just watch her closely," Newt suddenly said. "Must be something special about her or they wouldn't have sent her here."

My eyebrows knitted into a frown when I heard Newt's sentence. Sure, it was innocent and harmless, but his unexpected spur of concern made me feel a tiny bit or resent for the pretty new greenie. I shrugged off the feeling though, not wanting to be those type of clingy, controlling and jealous girlfriends.

Alby easily climbed out of the Box with Gally's help and walked over to the Med-jacks. "Keep a watch on her day and night. Nothin' better happen without me knowing about it. If she talks in her sleep or takes a klunk—you tell me," he said sternly, receiving nods from the two Med-jacks. After that, he turned to the crowd. "If anybody touches this girl, you're gonna spend the night sleeping' with Grievers and ol' Ben in the Maze. Banished, no questions. Ain't nobody better touch her!"

For once, I was glad with the order Alby gave out. I tried my hardest to join him in staring down the Gladers but because I was still inside the Box, all they could see was my head poking out—and that was only because I was on my tiptoes.

Clint and Jeff shuffled off to the Homestead, the girl's body bouncing as they went. The other Gladers finally burst into loud conversations about her as her figure left the courtyard, as if it would change anything if she were still there. Ridiculous theories scattered through the air, and I rolled my eyes at every one of them.

When Gally got out of the Box, I looked around for anything to support me so I could escape the metal contraption. Finding nothing available, I pouted and pulled on Newt's pants. "Hey, Newt," I called out.

Newt looked down at me from his conversation with one of the Gladers. "Yeah?"

"A little help?" I raised my eyebrows, holding my hand out. He blinked before realizing that I was still in the Box.

Seeing his lips slowly transform into a grin, I frowned. "Hmm…I think I'll let you stay in there a little longer."

"Newt, come on," I said, smiling and waving my hands at him. "Help me up."

The blond boy only crouched down on the concrete above me, smirking. "And why should I do that?"

I rolled my eyes despite the curl of my lips. "Because I'm your girlfriend?"

"Now, why does that sound like a question?" he pretended to muse, sitting down on the floor.

Letting a grin creep over my lips, I tugged on the hems of his pants. "Seriously, Newt. Get me out of here."

"You know, when I imagined you tugging on my pants, I imagined it in a quite different situation," Newt retorted, lowering his face down to mine. Before he could place his lips on mine though, I cupped his mouth and shook my head, blushing slightly.

"You're awful," I laughed, pushing his face away. Smiling, I said, "Get me out of here first and I'll maybe—_maybe_—kiss you."

Newt narrowed his eyes playfully and sighed. "You know, judging by the circumstances right now, I have the upper hand...literally."

When Newt held his hand out in open air, I snorted. Hitting his knees, I said, "Pull me out, Newt. This place smells terrible!"

"All the more reason to keep you down there."

"Ain't the time for your lovey-dovey banter, shanks," Alby interjected, slapping Newt lightly on his back. "Get her out, Newt. We got a Gathering to be at."

I saw Newt exhale in defeat and I smiled victoriously. He held his hand out, purposely lifting it a little higher. I frowned as he smirked, dangling his wrist at me. "Go on. Take my hand."

Before I could retort or do anything, I felt the floor beneath me jerk.

My body lifted into the air before slamming back against the cold metal floor of the Box. I heard the supplies tumble and hit each other as the floor stopped moving. I grunted in pain as I sat up. When my eyes looked up and caught Newt's, they widened in terror. The light and sky felt so far away, and I gasped.

The Box was at least ten inches _down_ from where it was supposed to be.

* * *

><p>"Andy?" I heard Newt call my name, and it felt like he was such a distance away. "Andy, are you okay? What happened?"<p>

Swallowing, I stood up slowly and looked at the dark, black abyss beyond the box. The gap between the concrete above and the Box was enough to show me darkness. I bravely walked closer to the void space, trying to see what was there, but my eyes discerned nothing. I looked at my feet, observing the darkness through the tiny holes of the metal floor. Nothing could be seen, yet again.

"Andy!"

My head tilted upwards to see Newt, frantic and worried. My eyebrows scrunched in confusion as I saw him telling the others to grab the rope. It wasn't until I saw the other faces of the Gladers, was when I started worrying too. It all hit me at once—what actually happened, where I was and where the _Box _was.

The Box moved; and it moved _downwards_.

"Newt!" I yelled out, the fear I had earlier creeping back into my bones. "Help me!"

"Hold on!" he shouted back, and a rope fell over the edge of the hole above. "Grab it!"

I tiptoed and strained my fingers and body to grab the rope but it was too far. Seriously, it didn't even reach the top of the Box.

I started breathing irregularly, looking around me but only seeing blackness. The distressing feeling I owned when I first rode up in this Box came back to me, embedding all the dark and scary moments into my brain. The supplies around me didn't help, since they were in soft, clothed bags and little, fragile boxes.

"Andy!" Newt shouted again, his voice laced with alarm and panic.

Looking back up, I yelled, "It's not long enough!"

The only thing that was running through my mind besides Newt was the thought of Box. I was begging and pleading to anyone that could hear—_don't let the box drop_; not any deeper. I didn't want to go back to wherever I came from. I felt safe in the Glade with Newt, Chuck, Minho and the others. The anxiety in me increased as I thought of going back home—I didn't _want_ to go back home.

I wasn't even sure if the Box was going to send me back. Maybe it wanted to dispose of me since the new girl had arrived.

Faintly, I heard the ruckus above me:

"Get a longer one!"

"No use! She's too far down!"

"What now? "

"Shuck, this never happened before!"

"It's not supposed to go down with a shank in it!"

Their voices started fading as a high-pitched buzz settled in my ear. I gulped as I rotated in my spot, the blackness surrounding me seeming like it could close in and suffocate me. The acrid smell I remembered from my first day returned as I stumbled back against the metal harshly, wincing at the pain. I placed a hand on my heart, trying to calm myself down, but was failing badly.

Chains and pulleys started to rattle from somewhere beyond the dark and hollow opening, and I heard my own sharp intake of breath.

_Oh god, no. Please don't let the box drop. No._

Luck wasn't on my side. I could tell by the way the Box suddenly dipped, the sounds of metal against metal screeching in my ears. I let out a loud, piercing scream as it echoed through the walls, taunting me just like how the Box wouldn't stop dropping. I barely heard Newt's shout of my name before looking up. The light above me slowly grew smaller and smaller until it was gone—like how a car light would look like in the night as it passes by you.

It started all over—the sickening smell, the nauseating feeling, the sweat, and the cringe-worthy scrapes of metal.

A loud scream ripped through my throat as my stomach churned from the sudden drop. The darkness seemed to travel to fog over me, until my eyesight was blurry. I tried to touch something but only found metal. My feet stumbled as I fell forward onto the floor, trying my hardest not to vomit.

Suddenly, the box halted in full projected force. I felt myself hover in the air for a moment, before crashing back onto the hard, steel surface. I attempted to stand up, turn around, look at where I was—or do _something_—but I wasn't able to. The land was harsher than ever, and all I could feel was a sharp, throbbing pain through the back of my head before blackness clouded my senses and consciousness.

* * *

><p><strong>3<strong>**rd**** Person POV**

Minho was running back to the Glade, curious and overcome with disbelief. The siren had blasted through the Glade when he was running, and it automatically reached the Maze. He was tempted to skip his running duties—since nothing ever changed during the three-year span he ran—but figured that he could just finish up quickly before returning to the Glade.

Secretly, he was also thinking of ways to apologize to Andy for his outburst the day before. He didn't mean to shout at her. He was just aggravated at everything that he needed someone to take it out on. Unfortunately, it was her. He immediately felt guilty afterwards, and wanted to apologize, but she avoided him the whole time.

The real reason why he was peeved came through a series of events actually. First, he was already annoyed when Ben got stung and he had to do _two_ sections everyday, and on the day he could finally just run _one _section, he was summoned back to the Glade for a klunk Gathering. Thus, all hope for an easy day and arriving back early was gone. It would've helped if he could skip the rest of his section after the Gathering, but no—he had to get back out there and finish his section.

Reason number two was that Jack told him that Ben had attacked Thomas and _also_ Andy. Just because of that, he was angry. He wanted to meet the former Runner and beat him up. But the Baggers said that Ben was with the Med-jacks, so he knew that he had no chance to rough Ben up.

Thirdly, he just came to realize that through the years, he wasn't exactly the _nicest _angry person ever. He'd blow up at anyone he could find, and Andy was the one that approached him yesterday. He felt like a complete asshole after the outburst, but she already walked away from him. When she didn't show up at the Banishment and dinner, he felt bad and wanted to kick himself. It didn't help that Newt told him about Andy's infuriated rant about him soon after that. She also didn't come out of the Ranch that morning until after he left.

"Okay, one more time. Here we go," he said to himself as he slowed his running, getting closer to the Glade. "Andy, I'm sorry. Yeah. That's it. I'm sorry. No-wait! That's too simple," he huffed and continued brainstorming. "I was a jerk. I realize that, and I apologize…nah, too_ formal_. Note to self: Use I'm _sorry_, not I _apologize_. Good. Okay, uh…Andy," he paused and groaned, not knowing what else to say.

Minho wanted to apologize, but he simply didn't know how. He stayed up late thinking of ways to apologize, trying to come up with speeches and even contemplating if he could intimidate Chuck into making a bracelet for her. Newt however, said that even a simple 'I'm sorry' and a hug would do, since he was best friend.

As he passed the doors, he finally settled on just dropping an apology on her; and maybe try to be her servant for a month.

When Minho rushed in through the North wall though, he was surprised to see that no Baggers were guarding the doors. His eyes immediately fell upon the hectic scene near the Box—some Gladers were pacing and kicking at the grass, some were talking vehemently, some looked worried while some were doing their regular jobs half-heartedly.

His curiosity stirred, Minho jogged over to the pitiful site instead of the Map Room, and frowned when he saw Newt sitting on the grass with his head buried in his knees. "Newt?" the runner called, ignoring the looks from the other boys.

"Hey, Newt," he said, crouching in front of the boy. When Newt didn't answer, Minho slapped his shoulders. "Yo, shank! What's up with you?"

Newt only let out a muffled sound—one that Minho couldn't decipher. He furrowed his brows, wanting to know what was the big problem that Newt was acting strangely along with the other Gladers too.

"Newt!" Minho yelled, shaking his friend. "Come on, dude. What the shuck's going on? Tell me! Hey, get up!"

Newt's hand roughly pushed Minho's hands away, and the Runner fell into a sitting position from his crouch. Brushing off Newt's rare display of violence, he opened his mouth to speak. What made him pause was the expression on Newt's face—his eyes were staring at Minho with repressed anger, but it couldn't hide the traces of despair and sorrow in them. He was breathing in and out deeply, as if trying to calm himself while his hands were clenching. Newt's eyebrows met in a slight frown, but from what Minho could see, his body was trembling.

Minho took a moment to take in Newt's miserable self, before asking, "What the shuck, ya shank? You look like Griever piss."

When Newt didn't reply, Minho continued with his questions. "What happened? Why are the Gladers just lying about? I heard the alarm. The klunk Box sent something?" The blond boy still remained silent, running his fingers through his hair. Minho frowned as his questions went by unanswered. "Seriously, shuck-face. What the shuck's going on? Why are you all gloomy? What happened? Come on, dude—_tell me_!"

"Can you _stop_ asking bloody questions?" Newt croaked out, irritated.

"Well, then start _answering _them," Minho retorted steely. "What happened?"

Newt opened his mouth to say something, but swallowed it down. He shook his head, burying his head in his knees and pulling on his hair. Minho heard a low cry come from the boy, and only frowned further. An unsettling feeling started to set in him as he searched the Glade for other familiar faces. He saw Alby with Gally and Winston, discussing heatedly. His eyes found Chuck and Thomas by the other Gladers, staring at the empty space where the Box should've been. A few faces passed by him until the last Glader.

One person was missing from his sight though—Andy.

"Where's Andy?" Minho asked, only then realizing that it was unusual that Andy wasn't with Newt or Chuck. He examined the Glade once again before turning back to Newt, a little bit panicked. "Newt, _where_ is Andy?"

Newt looked down, squeezing his eyes tightly. "Andy's gone."

Something in his stomach plummeted as Newt revealed the fact. Minho shook his head, not fully believing or understanding what Newt was saying. After a while of staring hardly at Newt, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"That's exactly what I mean!" Newt snapped suddenly, his hand slapping against the hard ground. He shook his head, running his fingers back through his hair once again and let out an angry cry. "She's gone! The bloody Box sent up another shuck girl and went back down, with Andy in it! So there—she's gone! Don't you get it? It's so simple! So _bloody _simple. She's _gone_!" Newt shouted, positioning his head back in the crook of his knees and muttering something over and over.

Minho blinked, taken aback at Newt's outburst but listened to every word that came out of his mouth. A dreading feeling started to crawl up his back as he registered what Newt said. "No way. The Box doesn't-"

"Go down with somebody in it?" Newt chuckled bitterly. "Yeah. We all thought that too—until about half an hour ago."

Minho glanced at the empty space in the middle of the Glade, and whipped his head back to search for any sign of Andy. Maybe she was just pulling a prank on him, as revenge for what he did to her. He pushed down the worry in his mind and said, "You're shucking kidding me."

"Why in the bloody world would I kid about this?" Newt spat. "You heard the damn alarm! You look at that empty space right there, and you look at the Gladers—you think I'm joking?"

"But there's no way…" Minho trailed off, looking at the empty rectangle where the Box was supposed to reside if it just sent a greenie up. A gnawing feeling started making its way into his chest, as he quickly stood up and ran away from Newt in disbelief. He stopped in front of Alby, and hastily asked the leader, "Newt's jacked, right? He said that the Box went down with Andy."

Alby, Gally and Winston stopped talking all at once. Winston gave Minho a look of pity, with Alby nodding slightly. By their reactions, Minho confirmed that Newt was correct. He still couldn't believe it though—he didn't _want_ to believe it.

"But it's impossible…she can't…" Minho was at a lost for words, blinking unintelligently and trying not to let his intense apprehension show. "It can't do that…it's never done that before."

"It did this time, shank," Gally said, rubbing his temples and staring at the hollow pit. "Took her down like lightning. We couldn't do anything."

Silence engulfed the Runner, as he felt his head spin with all of the information. He was supposed to come back from running and find her, apologize and give her a hug. This wasn't supposed to happen; the box wasn't supposed to come up and take her away. Minho took a few steps back, his eyes scanning the Glade one more time, wanting Andy to just jump out and scream 'got you!' Unfortunately, that wasn't happening, because she was gone. In the words of Newt—she was _simply gone_.

"There's nothing we can do now," Alby said. "We just have to wait and see if the Box brings her back."

"Wait, that's it?" Minho inquired in shock. "You're not gonna do anything about it?"

Alby frowned nastily at Minho before saying, "What do ya want me to do, huh? Lower myself down like Nick and get sliced in half? You have a magic armor to keep me in one piece or somethin'? Want to try the rescue mission yourself?"

"No, I just…don't know," Minho mumbled out. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

Somber glances were exchanged between Alby, Gally and Winston. Alby sighed and patted Minho on the back. "It's out of our hands now, Minho. Wherever she is, it's probably better than the Glade. Who knows? Maybe she's gone back to her old life."

Minho frowned. Alby's words weren't exactly comforting in any way. _Back to her old life? _He thought in disdain. _Then what about her new life—us in the Glade_?

"I should call a Gathering but," Alby's eyes darted from Newt to Minho, and he shook his head. "Ain't the best time. Might as well go check on the girl."

His mind elsewhere, Minho only nodded absentmindedly. "Okay, yeah. You do-wait," his brows met in confusion as it registered in his brain. "What girl?"

"The girl they sent up. She's in a coma, woke up and recognized Thomas and Andrea, and gave us a damn note," Alby scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Nothing makes sense. First Ben says he saw the shank, and then the girl arrives and says his name, and Andrea goes down and we all know how Thomas said her name when he arrived, right? Shuck, everything just leads back to _him_."

"He's bad news," Gally said. "Can't be trusted."

Alby heaved heavily and rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, well. Not much we can do without proof," he said before making his way over to Newt. Turning his head to the Gladers, he shouted, "Listen up, shanks! Crazy things happened today, and we have lotta questions, but no shuckin' answers. To straighten things back up I want y'all to get back to work. No discussing about this, or it's a week in the Slammer with no food."

The Gladers listened attentively to Alby's speech. After it was over, they hesitantly dispersed and went back to their usual jobs. The endless questions they had in their minds forced to remain silent. Alby turned back to Newt, seeing his second-in-command sit on the grass and stare at the abyss miserably.

"Newt-"

"I'm staying here."

Alby frowned at Newt's sharp retort. "Newt, that doesn't help-"

"We've established that. It's no use, she's gone, we can't help," Newt said flatly. "Doesn't mean I can't stay here and wait."

"Wait for _what_, Newt?" Alby asked, frustrated.

Silence hung over them, until Newt broke it by saying, "If she comes back, I want to be the first to see her," he clarified solemnly. "So I'm staying."

"Newt, don't be stupid," Alby said, shaking his head. "Andrea's probably fine, back to her old life and out of here. The Box was where we woke up, where we started. Maybe she went down, and-"

"No, Alby!" Newt cut Alby off, standing and pointing a vigorous finger at Alby. He glared at the leader with blazing eyes. "You know what doesn't help? Your klunk theories! She's gone, Alby. Simple as that—_gone_. We don't know where and why the Box took her, or what's underneath this place, or if she's even _alive_ right now. She's just gone," Newt's voice cracked as he finished the sentence. His jaw flexed and he breathed in deeply, balling his fists. Then, he slumped back to the ground and shook his head hopelessly. "Just leave me here, Alby. I can take care of myself."

"We both know that's not true," Alby sighed, sending him a pointed look. "You can't."

Newt's face twisted in pain at the hidden reference to the day he was blessed with his limp. Andy's face appeared in his mind though, and he shook his head determinedly. "_I_ _can_ _now_."

Alby exhaled heavily, knowing that it was useless to try and convince Newt to get back to his normal routine. He slowly nodded his head and patted Newt on the back comfortingly—as comfortingly as _Alby_ can. Newt didn't respond and only continued gazing at the empty space. Alby turned to Minho and raised an eyebrow.

"And how 'bout ya?" Alby asked.

Minho, too consumed in his thoughts, jumped slightly when Alby approached him with a question.

"Uh…" he thought of seeing Andy again, and he really needed to. He refused to believe that she was dead or whatever fate she suffered down there. Masking the fear and pain he felt, he turned around to walk away dreadfully, a heavy chain wrapping around his legs as if refusing his departure. "I'm going to map."

With a heavy heart, Minho too off running in the direction of the Map Room. As he shut the door, he instantly remembered his outburst at Andy. He couldn't just have her leave him bearing the guilt. Actually, he couldn't have her leave him _at all_. She was his best friend, and only the thought of her being missing sent a sharp pain through him.

He couldn't help but support what Newt said, though—no one knew the reason to why she was taken, and where. She just disappeared as she went down the Box. That was simply it, not a teary drama to gush over. It all registered in Minho's head again as he kicked the table in sudden anger.

Andy was _gone_.

* * *

><p>Darkness. That was all I could see. Were my eyes closed?<p>

My body felt numb. I couldn't feel or move anything. I also couldn't remember anything clearly. An indistinct sound of clickings formed in my ears as I slowly breathed in. An overpowering smell of bleach and rubber entered my nose, making me scrunch my nose in disgust—at least that was what I felt like doing.

Thoughts ran through my mind as I started receiving familiar pictures and voices, slowly distorting until it was visible in my head. A metal box, with a girlish figure lurking inside; a young, chubby boy with curly hair, splashing water on me; an Asian boy smirking, saying the word 'babe'; me running after a boy and trying to grasp his shirt for an unknown reason; lying down and facing the sky with three other boys, talking about a sleepover; a blond boy covered in flour, laughing and leaning in to kiss me.

_Who are these people_? I asked myself.

Light immediately attacked my eyes as my eyelids parted abruptly. I shut them instantly as the blinding fluorescent light above me shined with no shame. Groaning, I sat up and rubbed my eyes, trying to give them some sense of comfort. A bitter taste spilt down my throat as I swallowed hardly.

Finally gathering the courage to open my eyes again, I slowly discovered the white room I was in. Around me were tables and beds, and also a few steel carts containing tiny concealed tools. I frowned as I arched my back, feeling an uncomfortable strain on my bones and muscle. How long had it been since I moved?

A stabbing pain throbbed at the back of my head as I turned my head to examine more of the room. I winced, but slowly stopped all action as my eyes fell upon the lady standing next to my bed. She was clad in white as she eyed me carefully, her face remaining stony and weary. I slowly backed away, but my feet refused to get off the bed. The trepidation set in me but for some reason, I didn't run.

Suddenly she smiled; a sweet but yet sinister curve of her lip that sent chills down my spine.

"Welcome back, Andrea."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, did you expect that? I did…maybe because I wrote it. So, after the next chapter—or the next **_**few **_**chapters—I'll try to speed things up so we can get to the whole 'Ending being triggered and aftermath and all that'. Alright? Alright.**

**Guest: Thank you for the long review. I love long ones, not to mention detailed ones. You are amazing for that, and yes I agree on what you wrote about dear ol' Minho. :)**

**OnyeezU: Yes, poor Ben indeed. Thank you!**

**GirlWhosWaiting: Don't worry; I'm pretty much behind the loop too—**_**far **_**behind. I don't even know most of the words and abbreviations my friends use whenever we talk or message. Can you believe that I didn't know what OTP meant until someone reviewed? Whenever I asked people, they'd look at me like I had three heads. I literally had to ask Google. I don't even know what BAMF means. I'm just bad at all that. Moving on, THANKS for the long review! You make me smile again and you're amazing! And thanks for saying I'm one of your top fav authors on ff. It means a lot. Hope you liked this chapter! :)**

**Newtella: Thank you for the review! I love how comfortable they are with each other too. :)**

**Newtie: Thanks for leaving a review! :)**

**Lottielue1: Thanks! We'll see how they find out and take it. :)**

**AnimeLover-DarkKnight321: Thanks for reviewing! She'll start realizing slowly. :)**

**msspicyjalapeno: Thanks for loving it! And thanks for reviewing. :)**

**Guest: Thank you for reviewing! You're amazing too!**

**Guest: Thank you for the review! I love it when people comment on things, and not just say 'love it! Update more!' even if I appreciate every comment, it's feels awesome to read your review! Thanks again! :)**

**Laurafxox: Thanks for the long review! I love it! He was just tired and frustrated so…a little bitchy. All your questions will be resolved if you keep tuning in! :) More Gally will come at the Gathering, and maybe afterwards cause I got something planned towards the end…and thanks for the detailed review. I'd feel jealous too if I was in her situation. I mean, Teresa's **_**beautiful. **_**In the books **_**and **_**in the movie. Thanks again! :)**

**AriLee: Thanks for the review! Good suggestion, maybe in the sequel? Like a feisty girl from group B?**

**Thanks for reading! :)**


	11. Futile Remembrance

**Disclaimer: I am not James Dashner**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 11: Futile Remembrance<span>

**3****rd**** Person POV**

It was dark in the Glade. Nothing but the unearthly tones of crickets and the silent rage of the nearest fire was heard. Low snores were perceived from both inside and out of the Homestead. Every Glader was asleep in their respective bunks behind the Homestead's wall, with only a few exceptions.

Newt was leaning against a tree stump near the Gardens, his eyes still centered on the closed lids over the where the box should've been. It had been hours since everyone had went to acquire sleep, but Newt couldn't sleep. The restlessness in him was too much; it outweighed any form of sleep that was to form in his eyes. He was extremely tired and had yawned numerous times, but his eyes refused to shut. His perturbed thoughts haven't settled down, and all he could do was wait torturously—knowing he could do nothing.

Minho had come out of the Map Room a couple of hours after dinner and joined him in his quest to wait for the Box to rise again—if it was ever going to. The Runner didn't say much, and only leaned against a huge rock a few feet from Newt. Chuck had come to join after some of the Gladers went to bed, proclaiming that he couldn't sleep.

Right at that moment though, Newt was the only one awake. Minho and Chuck had drifted off to dream world a while ago, leaving Newt the only one conscious. The second-in-command had calmed himself down earlier, but didn't move from his spot. His mind raced with thoughts and the mysterious whereabouts of Andy, and he couldn't get the picture of the hazel-eyed girl out of his mind.

It had only been a few long hours since she was taken, but Newt already missed her. He didn't know if it was because of his uncertainty to where she was or if she was okay, but he wasn't able to rest until he saw her again. His hair was already disheveled from the countless times he ran his fingers through them out of frustration, and the ground around around him was almost bald—he had ripped off most of the grass and piled them up to one side to distract himself.

Alby had come to check up on him a few minutes before he went to bed, but Newt still remained unresponsive. His concern had lessened a little, but it hadn't diminished. He didn't know what he would do without Andy around; he wasn't even sure if he _can_ do anything if she didn't come back. His mind was a mess and he was fidgety from his anxiousness.

He didn't know which was worse—the fact that she was gone, or the fact that he had absolutely no clue to what happened to her. Both were bad, and both were happening.

Newt dragged his palms down his face for the umpteenth time, sighing hopelessly. _Maybe she went back to her old life. Maybe she was being shipped back to wherever she came from. Maybe she was a mistake the Creators didn't mean to send, and now they wanted her back. Maybe she was dead. _Newt shook away all his morbid thoughts, squeezing his eyes shut to conceal his distress.

He lo-_cared_ about her…a lot. And he wanted her back. He _needed_ her back so he wouldn't end up doing anything crazy once more.

After a few more slow minutes, Newt felt his eyes droop. He tried his hardest to keep his eyes open, but the sleep was already winning the fight against his will to stay awake. Sparing another last glance at the Box, he finally let himself fall into a slumber.

* * *

><p>The familiar sound of chains and metal scraping against metal made Newt jolt awake, his droopy eyes struggling to adjust to the gloomy surroundings. No alarm was heard, but the definite sound of pulleys signaled him that the Box was moving. He hastily stood up, rubbing his eyes hardly and waited to see if it was just a figment of his imagination.<p>

It wasn't.

"Minho!" he yelled, running towards the center of the Glade. "Wake up. It's moving!"

He turned to look at the Runner, making sure that he was awake. Minho's eyes snapped open abruptly, as he drowsily stumbled into a standing position. He nudged Chuck beside him and they both joined Newt in running to the Box.

Hope spread in Newt like wildfire as the hollow resonance of the machinery rang through the silence of the Glade. Even without the alarm, the piercing clangs of metal cut through the stillness of the place like a vase crashing in a library. Newt's hearts raced as he and Minho both slid the double lids open, peering into the never-ending abyss below. In his head was only Andy as he waited for something to pop up from the darkness.

"Chuck, go get Alby and the others!" Minho ordered the young Glader, who scurried off as he was told.

Newt's eyes didn't avert from the blackness even after Alby arrived with a few other Gladers, traces of sleep still in their eyes. His jaw clenched in anticipation, fists balling into his sides as he kept his gaze firmly in the empty hole. He heard the shuffling of the other boys behind him, talking and filling in the silence of the Glade.

"Did he get any sleep at all?" he heard Alby's voice somewhere behind him.

"I don't know. He was the one who woke me up," Minho replied. "Was awake when I went to sleep."

Newt ignored all the mutterings going on, crouching by the edge of the Box and waiting impatiently. He sighed in frustration as the ground continued rumbling along with the noises of gears, but nothing was appearing. Minho mirrored his stance on the opposite side of the box, looking ready to jump in if the Box arrived with Andy in it.

Newt frowned, not understanding why Minho was so worried about Andy. Sure, they were best friends; but Minho seemed a little _too_ concerned for Andy's wellbeing. Other Gladers like Clint, Alby, Gally or Winston—Newt didn't mind. He knew that Andy only viewed them all as friends, but with Minho, it was different. They were best friends and they were really close, but Newt would sometimes catch Minho staring at Andy a bit too long for his liking. The fact that Andy liked spending time around the Runner didn't help much either.

With Chuck, Newt could be assured nothing would happen—he was like a brother to Andy. With Minho, Newt was never sure. And he didn't like it.

Shaking his head, Newt decided to forget his petty thoughts and focus on the situation at hand—the Box. It was coming up—it _had _to come up—but it was taking a long time. Every slow and torturous minute passed by with Newt fretting and exhaling in frustration. _What in the damn bloody world is taking the shucking Box so long_, he thought angrily.

Suddenly, just as fast as it had dropped, the Box flew up right into the visible space where they could all see.

A few Gladers had brought their torches and had moved closer to give the Box some light. Newt abandoned all his thoughts and jumped into the Box just as it stopped and settled into its place. A sharp surge of wind blew upwards as the Box halted but Newt didn't wobble in the slightest.

With the light from the nearby torches, he made out a few set of supply bags and a figure crouching in the corner. Quickly walking over to the corner, he found a girl huddling to herself, blond hair strewn across her shoulders and knees.

"Andy?" Newt whispered, almost in disbelief. He would recognize her familiar frame anywhere, and he was sure it was her. He felt the Box vibrate as someone jumped down too, but he ignored it and stooped down to meet Andy. "Andy?" he whispered again as he lightly brushed her hair out of her face.

The girl's head snapped up, and dark hazel eyes stared back at him. Newt's serious expression broke into a one of immense relief and happiness. "Andy!" he said, letting a laugh of disbelief mixed with relief escape his lips. "It's you. It's really you."

Without any warning, Newt pressed his lips to her, smiling into the kiss as his hands stroked her cheek. He kissed her gently, not wanting to scare her away since she just came up from the box. Elation and glee washed over him as he breathed out a chuckle against her soft lips.

She was _back_.

That was all that mattered then and there.

He was so overwhelmed with relief and cheerfulness at her return that he didn't realize she wasn't kissing back. He only came to register it when she backed away, trying to move away from him. Newt speedily pulled back, keeping a hand on her shoulder. He mentally scolded himself for being so rash, knowing that it must've been torture for her to go down the Box and come back up. _Well, I've sorta been tortured too_, he thought and smiled at Andy.

Her eyes were wide with surprise though, looking at Newt as if he were crazy. Before she could open her mouth to speak, Alby cut her off.

"Need some help up, shank?" he asked, towering over the Box with a rope in his hands. He threw the rope down and Newt swiftly placed her foot in the loop.

"Hold on tightly," Newt said, grinning and placing Andy's hands on the rope. He gave the rope a tug as Alby and the others started pulling her up. Newt chuckled when she yelped in surprise, keeping a firm hold on her waist to refrain her from falling.

When she reached the top, Minho helped pull her up, a beaming smile on his face. Newt's grin was wiped off instantly as he hastily made his way out of the Box, wanting to be near Andy. The joy kept bursting in his chest as he thought of her being back in the Glade. Nothing else was in his mind except for that thought—she was back.

Yeah, she was gone. But now she was back.

"You're back," he heard Minho utter in disbelief. "I'm so sorry. For everything, really. I was an idiot. I can't believe you're back. I'm sorry. I-I…" Minho shook his head and laughed, pulling Andy into a tight hug.

Newt sent a glare at the Runner as he stood opposite the pair, his fingers twitching because _he _was supposed to be the one hugging Andy. _He—_Newt—was her boyfriend, for god's sake. _He_ deserved to be the one hugging her first. From his peripheral vision, he noticed Chuck bounding happily towards Andy; most likely wanting to hug her too.

Feeling a tad bit selfish, he cleared his throat loudly, making Minho dart his eyes towards him. Minho rolled his eyes in annoyance, and reluctantly let go of Andy, giving her a wide smile. Newt turned her around to meet him, but was instead met with a confused and horrified look. Getting the wrong idea, Newt cupped her cheek and chuckled.

"It's me—Newt," he exclaimed, grinning. "You're back. You really _are _back. I can't…I can't believe you're here," he pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her tightly as if, if he let go, she would disappear once more. He buried his face in her hair and whispered, "I was so worried. I didn't know where you went. The shuck box just took you away. I-I couldn't sleep, _god_…I didn't even know what to do without you. I'm sorry for letting you stay there; I should've pulled you out. Shuck, I-I lo-I love that you're _back_. I'm so excited you're here, Andy. Bloody, words can't even…"

Newt breathed out a chuckle in her hair, kissing the top of her head in pure happiness. The merriness of the situation was short-lived though.

"Who are you?"

With a question that was barely above a whisper, Newt jerked back as if he was struck by fire. He blinked at Andy's bewildered expression, as her eyes darted wildly around the Glade. His jaw dropped slightly as his eyes widened, his grin nowhere to be discerned. He backed away, pain tugging at his chest as the question repeated itself in his head.

Andy observed Chuck, Minho, Alby and the other Gladers with the same expression on her face. One by one, the Gladers raised their eyebrows in hope she would identify any of them but she didn't stop. Her eyes landed back on Newt and he finally registered the look in her eyes—unidentifiable.

She didn't recognize who he was. She didn't recognize Minho, Chuck, Alby, Gally—_no one_.

Just like that, he felt his heart break.

* * *

><p>"Who are you?" I asked again, feeling the fear creep up my spine.<p>

After I arrived up in the Box, I was immediately kissed—_kissed_. My mind shouted at me to do something, but for some reason I couldn't. Webs of questions filled my brain as I was hauled out of the Box into some guy's arms. I didn't understand a word he said, and was honestly shocked at his hug. I didn't know why it happened.

Then, the blond boy from before hugged me too. He whispered many things in my ear, about how he was worried, I was taken down the box, I was back, and stuff I didn't fully comprehend. Nothing was making sense. So instead of having something else come to me as a surprise, I decided to just voice my mind.

Nobody answered.

Silence fell over where we were as soon as the question escaped my lips. The boy that hugged me instantly let go and stepped back. For some ridiculous reason, I felt hurt at that, but shook it away. The eyes around me widened as I frowned, the frustration and puzzlement that was pent-up since I opened my eyes starting to leak.

"Seriously, who the hell are you guys?" I asked angrily. "Why am I here?"

The silence continued, with the boys passing looks from one another. The face of the boy in front of me crumpled in pain for a reason I wasn't aware of. It _did _make me feel somewhat guilty, but that was absurd—I didn't even know him. _Don't you?_ A voice in my head spoke up and I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion. I didn't know._ Do I?_ I asked back since my memory was blurred.

Soon, I was frustrated of the silence and shouted, "Answer me! Who are you? Why am I here? Where am I? Don't just…say _nothing_!"

"Andrea," a deep voice called from behind the blond boy. A tall, dark-skinned man stepped to the front and squinted his eyes. "What do you remember?"

"WICKED," I said automatically, slightly taken aback by the steadiness of my voice. "I'm Andrea from WICKED. I work for them. I help them. I live with them. Now, answer me—why am I here?"

The boy's eyes suddenly widened as he turned to one of the other boys. "Get a paper and a pen! Now!" When the boy nodded and ran off, he turned back to me. "Andrea. I want you to tell me what you remember. _Everything_."

"I…I'm Andrea. I work for WICKED. Uh, I-I'm their top engineer. I…I help them and I live with them," I answered hesitantly.

"We get that. Anything' else?" he prompted, staring at me sternly.

Searching through my mind, I found that there were loopholes in my memories. I remembered things—but not everything. Major important slides were missing from the designated shelves in my head. Shaking my head, I said, "I don't know. I can't remember everything-"

"Try, Andrea!" the boy barked. "What do ya remember?"

I took a few steps back, recoiling in fear. I hadn't even been there for ten minutes, and the boy was already madly interrogating me like I was a criminal. The blond boy from before frowned and said, "Don't shout at her."

"I remember, um, people…" I muttered pathetically, not knowing what else to do. "WICKED's using us to find a c-cure…for something. Lots of us are used. Teenagers mainly. T-they say we're smart. They study some people too. I…I can't remember who. They have cam-cameras, I think, watching these people. And-and they…they…I-I don't remember!"

The dark-skinned boy growled as a boy came rushing with a stack of papers and a few pens, placing them on the ground. "Well, try, Andrea! Try to remember! You shanks write down whatever she says! Don't miss _anything_!"

Staring back at the heated eyes of the boy, I shook my head hopelessly. "I _can't_ remember."

"Shuck it, _try_! You went down there and came back for a reason! Remember something, shuck-face!"

"Hey!" a boy in a blue buttoned up shirt spoke, glaring at the dark-skinned boy. "Lay of her, man."

"She needs to remember something!"

The blond boy decided to join the conversation and said, "She's trying! Can't you see she's confused as much as we are too?"

"Yeah, only difference is that she _remembers_ a few things from the real world! Things we don't know! Things we only dream to know!" the dark boy snarled. "This is a one time chance, I'm not risking it if she forgets!"

"Why don't you tell _me_ something?" I asked suddenly, breaking off their spat. The anger in me started to rise as they spoke like I wasn't even there. Glowering at the dark-skinned boy, I said, "Tell me where I am. Why the hell am I here?"

The boy sneered, walking closer and towering over me. I refused to be a coward and didn't back away. "You don't tell me what to say."

"Then don't count on anything coming out of my mouth," I hissed lowly. "Unless you answer my questions, don't hope that I'll tell you _anything_ about the _real_ world."

His jaw clenched visibly as he stared me down in fury, but I didn't move away. The two boys behind him quickly pulled him back. The blond one sent me an unreadable look before stepping closer to me. Since I was still wary of them all, I unconsciously took a step back away from him. His face twisted in hurt, and my consciousness immediately felt guilty.

"Andy," he started slowly. "I'm Newt. Do you, uh, remember me?" he asked hopefully, smiling uncertainly. I frowned, shaking my head. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Okay, then. Um…you remember nothing about the Glade? At all?"

"What's the Glade?" I asked, confused.

'_Newt' _frowned and rubbed his hands together, looking lost. He turned around and shrugged at the boys, and another boy stepped forward—this one was Asian, and had a blue shirt on, his hair was also probably the most perfect compared to the others.

"The Glade is where we—the Gladers—live. I'm Minho, a Runner and your best friend ever. Alby here is the almighty Glade Leader. Newt is second-in-command and also your boyfriend. Chucky boy here is a Slopper, he's like your lil' bro. Ring any bells?" he asked carefully, eyes glimmering with hidden expectation. I took in every word and frowned despairingly, shaking my head. Minho sighed and scratched his head. "Uh…you remember the Maze? We Runners run out there. You wanted to run out there too because you wanted the pink shoes," he tried again, smiling slightly. "We come back before the doors closed so we won't get trapped and eaten by the shuck Grievers. Remember…do you remember _anything_ here?"

"We don't need her rememberin' anything _here_. We need _outside_ stuff-"

"Slim it, Alby," Minho sighed, rolling his eyes. "We'll get to that later."

His words were confusing me even more, since I didn't understand anything. He was also fast, so I couldn't catch up but something _did _catch my ears though, and I heard myself ask, "Grievers?"

"Yeah, grievers," Minho nodded. "Giant sluggish monsters like a wretched remake mash up of Frankenstein in a steel bowling ball?"

My eyebrows knitted as I tried remembering the word—Grievers. The word was familiar. I could almost picture the monster despite Minho's lame depiction of it. My memory was still blurry though, and I huffed in annoyance when nothing other than a picture surfaced.

"I showed them to you on your second day," Newt said. "At the West wall. You were complaining about wanting to shower that day. And Minho waved at you before going into the Maze. And you were homesick and pranked him with Chuck too, remember?"

I almost wanted to shout when he asked 'remember?' I was getting tired of the word, but my eyes lit up with recognition when I heard the word, "Did you say Maze?"

Minho and Newt shared a look before nodding, their eyes intensely staring at me. I let my eyes dart to a wall nearby, seeing a straight crack break in the middle of the wall. _It's a door!_ my mind screamed.

Just like that, memories started to flood my brain. The loops were being filled in speedily, and it was so sudden that the force made me tumble backwards, clutching my head in pain. Faces and voices started speaking in my mind, and memories of Newt, Minho, Chuck, Thomas and the girl—_everything_ came rushing back.

The treasure chest containing my memories was unlocked. Everything resurfaced; even the memories before the Glade.

WICKED, Thomas, Teresa, Leo, Rachel, Arris, Ms. Paige, Dr. Cooper, a nameless guy, blueprints, prototypes, animals, Grievers, the Maze, the Box, Beetle Blades, Changing serums, problems, Grief serums, notes, my turn—I remembered _every-single-freaking-thing_!

The downside was that my mind couldn't handle the information overload, and I fell to the ground, screaming in pain as I clutched my head. I tried to hold the pain in, but it was too much. It felt as if my head was about to explode, as it throbbed wildly that my hand could actually feel it.

"Andy?" a concerned voice called as I felt someone rush beside me. "Shuck, are you okay?"

"What's wrong? What hurts?" another soothing voice asked.

I shook my head, squeezing my eyes as I tried to talk without my head hurting even more. "I remember," I gasped out, and let out another shout of pain as the veins in my head pounded with every word. Repressing the pain for a moment, I said, "I remember everything!"

"What? What do you remember?" Alby's voice boomed. "Andrea, _speak_!"

"WICKED," I choked out. "They…sent us," wincing at the pain, I breathed erratically, curling up into a ball. "Teresa's bad, they want me to finish what I started. I can't fail…I can't fail! Things are turning bad…dangerous times…" I trailed off, whimpering at the pain I felt. "Oh god…it hurts."

Alby didn't care about my pain though, and continued asking. "Write it down, Clint! What else? _What else_?"

"Alby, stop it! She's in pain, can't you see that?" Newt's voice snapped.

"More, Andrea!" Alby urged, ignoring Newt. "What else? Tell us everything!"

"Alby!" Minho growled. "Enough, shuck-face."

I shook my head, swallowing hardly and trying to continue saying what I could. "They want results…variables…they're examining how b-brains work," I said, strangled. "We can't escape. We have too, but we can't. The world's bad…but this place is going down. They sent the trigger…only a matter of time before-" I was cut off by a sudden sharp hammer to my head, falling back on my knees and keeping my head on the grass.

"Andy, stop. If you can't-"

"No," I wheezed out, feeling beads of sweat form on my forehead. "They don't want us here anymore…things are turning bad…nothing's good. The end is coming. It's starting…I can't…I can't say…"

I tried hard to open my eyes, and saw Thomas a few feet away. Suddenly, just like how the treasure chest was unlocked, it was locked back again. The memories stopped flooding as the throbbing stopped. The soreness didn't disappear though, and I found myself standing and pacing wildly.

"No, no, no, no, no…" I mumbled, my hands buried in my hair and pulling at the roots. "No! I can't remember…I can't forget!"

"No, don't forget," Alby said from somewhere. "Hold onto those memories, Andrea!"

I couldn't. As the lock was turned, I felt all the memories being sucked back through the tiny gap in the keyhole. I tried reaching out for it but they were like water—filtering through my fingers like it was nothing. Shaking my head furiously, I tried to spit out all I could remember in hopes Clint heard enough to write them down.

"The ending, it's coming! They sent her—the girl—she's a trigger! Thomas…you're their favorite, you've always been. Variables…there are consequences! Times are bad! They want to end this…" I let out a scream as I couldn't grasp anything else. A face of a woman popped in my head and I found myself muttering, "I can't fail. They don't want me to fail. I can't disappoint them! Oh god, I can't fail!"

"Hey, hey, Andy," I felt someone grab my shoulders firmly, keeping me in place. I opened my eyes to see Newt, his face marred with a worried frown. "Andy, love, slow down. We can't understand you."

I laughed out of the blue, sounding like a crazed maniac with the hopeless expression still on. "Don't talk to me!" I shouted, pushing him away and cackling. "I'm bad, I'm bad…I'm them. I…I can't fail! They're not good! Things are bad…the world's bad. Everything's bad…they're bad…they're good. WICKED is…no."

In all honesty, if I were looking at myself, I'd be reminded of Ben—only crazier.

As my laugh merged with my cries and my smiles formed into a crazed grimace, I fell to the floor, my eyesight starting to cloud over with blackness. The memories were all gone by then, but the pain that was ripping my skull apart wasn't. The ground was spinning and I felt like I was floating above it, my head rolling around in a smashed haze. I breathed in and out harshly, staring up at the starless sky as the shadows crept over me.

"Andy!"

"Shuck it, get her help!"

"Jeff! Med-room, now!"

"Andy, you're okay. Damnit, hurry up!"

"She's not responding!"

The noises hurt my ears and brain so much more. So, I closed my eyes.

* * *

><p>"<em>Andrea," a woman called as I stepped into the metal contraption. <em>

_Turning around to meet her eyes, I answered, "Yes?"_

_She sent me an empty smile, pressing a button on the side of her wall. The metal gate came down, trapping me inside the Box. As the gate closed with a loud click, the gears of the pulleys started reverberating. The last thing I saw through the many holes on the gate was the glint in her eyes._

"_Don't fail us."_

Something was being sucked away as my eyes opened. Even if the room I was in didn't have lights blaring straight into my eyes, it still stung. I shut them as I tried to recall what had happened before…nothing floated to the back of my mind. I remembered nothing except for the feeling of a vacuum in my mind as it sucked all that I could remember away.

I blinked my eyes slowly as I regained focus, seeing the wooden ceiling of the med-room above me. Swallowing the bitter taste in my throat, I groaned as I tried sitting up. My muscles tensed as I stretched my back, trying to get comfortable.

"Easy there," I heard a voice say from my right. My head snapped to meet Newt's, and he smiled tiredly. "Hi."

It took me a moment to actually answer, since I was taken aback at how exhausted he looked. His weary eyes were opened to his widest extent available, which was a lot smaller than usual. The bags under his eyes were quite visible, even in the dim surroundings of the med-room. His body was sagging on the side of the bed as his head rested against his palm.

"Newt," I said, starting to smile. "Hey."

Newt gave me a lopsided grin, his hands resting on mine. He straightened his back to look at me properly and I felt a sudden feeling of guilt hit me. I didn't know why I felt it since I didn't do anything, but it was there—lingering at the back of my blurred memories. Before I knew it, I flung myself at him, wrapping my arms around him. Newt caught me, slightly surprised, but placed his arms around my back. "What's this for?"

"I don't know," I mumbled, nestling my head against his neck. "I just wanted to hug you."

I heard Newt chuckle softly as he stroked my back, placing a light kiss on my head. We just stayed like that, holding each other for a while. I breathed in, confused at all the jumbled thoughts in my head. I didn't know what I did, but I did _something_. I let go off Newt and tried to smile, seeing him grin at me happily for some reason. The troubled, empty thoughts in my head were too loud though, and I frowned.

"What happened?" I asked.

Newt blinked, his eyebrows creasing. "You don't remember?"

"I remember being sick of that word," I said, shrugging. "And I remember…going down the Box. And then I came back and nothing else. Why? Did something happen?"

His mouth opened to speak, but then he shook his head and closed it. "You really don't…remember?"

"I don't know. I remember _remembering_…" I trailed off. "I, um, I-I don't know…damn it, I can't recall what I remembered." Rubbing my head, I let out an infuriated sigh. "Why, Newt? Did something happen?"

"Um, I think I'd better show you," he said and took something from the desk beside him.

He handed me a few papers with messy writing on them. I frowned, reading the familiar but unrecognizable words on the papers. As I shuffled the papers one by one, I shook my head and turned to look at Newt. "I don't understand," I said, holding the papers up. "What are these?"

"Clint wrote those," Newt answered. "When you came up, you started talking about things. You told us information that we didn't know—everything you remembered. It all came in pieces though, so this is all Clint could catch."

"I remembered something?"

Nodding, a troubled expression crossed over Newt's face. "Yeah. You remembered a lot…but it wasn't the best time for you."

I ignored Newt's mumble as my eyes scanned the papers. The first paper wrote '_Who Andrea was'_. Below the title were points and sentences like _'works for WICKED,' top engineer,' 'lives with WICKED,' _and _'helps WICKED_.' At the bottom of the paper was a huge, capitalized question: '_WHO/WHAT IS WICKED?'_ It was even circled.

The next paper was titled _'Everything she said._' The notes were _'finding a cure,' 'watching with cameras,' 'WICKED sent us,' 'Teresa's bad,' 'things are turning bad,' 'she can't fail_,' and a few more. Questions beneath it were: _'a cure for what_?' '_Who is Teresa?' 'What's turning bad?' 'Can't fail what?_'

The next paper was the same as the second one, but had shorter points. Clint must've had a hard time trying to hear and jot everything down. _'Results and variables,' 'how brains work,' 'can't escape,' 'sent a trigger=the girl,' 'the ending is coming,' 'Thomas=their favorite,' 'consequences and bad times,' 'she can't fail.'_

What caught my eye was the last point—_'she's bad. Everything is bad.'_

Questions included _'can't escape what?' 'What consequences?' 'A trigger for what?' 'What is the Ending?' _and _'who's bad?_'

I felt my eyebrows meet each other in a frown as I read the questions, trying to find answers in my head. Nothing wanted to come forward though, and I angrily placed the papers down. "I can't believe I forgot this."

"It's okay-"

"No, it's not okay!" I exclaimed, shoving the papers back in his hands. I pressed my fingers to my scalp in frustration. "I remembered, Newt! Didn't I? I said all this, I remembered something but now…" I broke off in a pathetic cry. "I can't believe I forgot. I remembered…everything. Not pieces, but I remembered _everything_…didn't I, Newt?"

Newt seemed hesitant to answer. "Uh, n-no you-"

"I _did, _didn't I?" I prompted, my fierce gaze steady on him.

"…yes," he answered slowly.

My lips formed a sardonic smile as I let out a bitter laugh. "And I just forgot everything. Just like that," I said. Newt opened his mouth to speak but I shook my head. "No. Don't say anything. I can't believe I forgot. I'm such an idiot. I remembered! I _knew_ things…I-I had knowledge of the real world, Newt. I _remembered_."

"Andy, it's fine. It passed-"

"Exactly—it _passed_! I remembered but I let it pass! I freaking remembered everything, Newt—_everything_! I knew who I was, who put us here, _why_ we're here, maybe even a way _out_!" I shouted and buried my face in my hands hopelessly. Every single past tense I used sent a crushing pain in my chest. My eyes moistened as I breathed in and out slowly, thinking of how I could let the memories fade away.

I felt Newt put a comforting hand around me, whispering about how it wasn't my fault. I only scoffed pathetically and shook my head. "It's not your fault, love. You tried your hardest to tell us everything you could."

"But it wasn't enough!" I retorted, removing my hands to give him a heated glare. However, the tears started leaking out and instead of looking angry, I looked forlorn and worth of pity. I rubbed my eyes, trying to rid the tears. "I only left more questions, Newt. God, I'm so stupid. How could I let the memories just _go_? It was there in my head, but I just _forgot_. I'm so…shit…I'm so useless."

I felt rough hands separate my face from my palms, cupping my face and turning me to face Newt. I stared hardly at Newt, trying not to let more tears fall. His dark eyes stared back at me, frowning. From the corner of my eye, I saw his jaw flex for a moment before he spoke.

"You weren't seeing _you_, Andrea. You don't remember being there. Well, let me tell you," he said sternly. "You were in pain. Every word that came out of your mouth made you fall and clutch your head like it was about to burst. Don't you know how worried I was? Minho and I were ready to pounce on Alby just because he forced you to talk, but you kept going on! Even when your head was hurting, you tried your hardest to tell us. You kept talking until you _passed out_, Andy!"

I tried shaking my head, denying what he claimed but Newt only held my face firmer. "So, don't say you're useless," he said softly, grimacing. "You did more than any of us could, Andy."

Squeezing my eyes shut, I let out a shaky breath. "Okay," I whispered. I placed my hands over his and nodded slowly. The franticness in my head evaporated as I looked at Newt properly. Suddenly feeling embarrassed at my outburst, I said, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he replied, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. The smile that I was fond of crept over his lips as he kissed my forehead. "I'm just glad you're back. You're here, and that's what matters right now."

As if I just remembered that I went down the Box, leaving Newt and the others, I asked, "How long have I been gone?"

"Not even a day," Newt answered, smiling at the fact. "Just a few hours, you came back up in the middle of the night. No alarms, but the Box rose."

"Wow," I exhaled. It felt like I had been gone for days, with all the black outs I went through and my lost of memories—again. One thing was clear in my mind though. "I'm never going near that box again."

Newt snorted. "I'm never _letting_ you go near that Box again."

I laughed, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on his lips. It wasn't very chaste for Newt though, since he pressed his lips hungrily against mine as soon as I pulled away. I didn't fight against it, finding that I missed the feeling of his lips on mine. Ignoring the sore feeling in my back, I wound my fingers through the smooth waves that curled around his neck. Breathing in his scent, I leaned my body closer to him.

Newt deepened the kiss, his tongue gliding across my bottom lip smoothly before slipping in. The pressure rose as I moved my lips against his urgently, my legs dangling off the bed to brush against his. A low rumble erupted somewhere from behind Newt's throat as he kissed the side of my lips softly, leisurely trailing down to my neck. I only sighed in pleasure, breathing against his ear.

Usually, this was the part where I pulled away—not wanting to step over any unspoken boundaries—but I didn't this time.

"I was…worried…about you," he breathed out between kisses. "I…didn't know what to do…I didn't…know…where you were," he said, his voice breaking slightly. His lips came back up to linger against mine as he talked, breathing unevenly. I stared into his deep eyes, seeing the concealed pain and instantly felt guilty. Newt looked down, trying to smile but ended up grimacing. "I-I couldn't _do_ anything. It was terrible."

"I'm sorry," I said timidly, stroking his jaw. "It won't happen again…I promise."

Newt gave me a small smile before capturing my lips once more. I responded eagerly, allowing one of my hands to press lightly against his chest and tug at the collar of his shirt. A low growl escaped his lips as he moved his lips roughly, his hands wrapping around my waist. "I'm glad you're back," he said. I moaned silently as he pressed his body closer to mine, standing up and placing wet kisses down my neck.

What I didn't expect from him was a bite, and I gasped out as I felt the sudden sharpness. He stole my breath for a heartbeat, an electric charge surging sharply through me that I couldn't tell whether it felt good or not—it didn't stop me from wanting more, though. I wrapped my legs around him, my fingers pulling softly at his hair as I greedily took his mouth again.

I couldn't really lie in that moment; I wanted him. Despite everything that happened.

"Andy," Newt panted, his voice strained as he broke the kiss. I breathed against his lips, bringing my eyes to him curiously. "As much as I…don't want this to end…it'll be really disturbing…with another person in here…unconscious or not."

Spotting my frown of confusion, Newt chuckled and jerked his head to the space behind me. Regaining my breath, I quickly turned around to see the girl.

The girl—I had forgotten that she arrived in the Glade in the first place!

Turning back to face Newt, I met his annoyed but amused gaze. I blinked, not knowing what to say since the girl was on the bed right next to me. She was only a few feet away, not very far. Newt was right; getting it on in the same room with an unconscious girl would end up extremely awkward. I sat back properly, running my fingers through a few strands of my hair while trying to compose myself.

"The girl, is she okay?" I asked as Newt sat back in his seat, holding one of my hands in his.

"I'm not sure. I didn't really move from the Box after you…you know," Newt admitted sheepishly. I frowned as I heard his confession of not moving, but he continued. "But I think Alby said she's in a coma."

I nodded, letting the information sink in. After it did, I narrowed my eyes at Newt and asked, "You didn't move from the Box?"

"Um…no?"

"Did you eat? Or sleep?" I raised my eyebrows when he scrunched his face. "Did you do…anything at all?"

A tense silence passed until Newt spoke, "Would it be bad if I said no?"

"Newt," I groaned, knitting my brows. "Seriously? You haven't eaten at all? I don't-wait. What time is it? How long has it been since you ate?"

"It's only ten in the morning. The runners left a couple of hours ago—oh, and Minho said he'll come visit you when he gets back," Newt replied. I remembered my slight argument with Minho and frowned, realizing that I haven't apologized yet. I could possibly do that when he comes to visit me later on. "I_ have _eaten though. Clint brought me an apple awhile ago."

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "An _apple_? Only one?"

Newt seemed to think for a moment before answering, "Mhm."

"Yeah. That's it," I sighed, pulling his hand weakly to try and get him to stand up. "You need to go eat. Now. No excuses."

"But I can stay-"

"If you come back in ten minutes or less, I will…do something," I ended my threat in pretense anger. At Newt's amused grin, I said, "I'll figure something out. And it'll be bad, you won't like it."

Newt rolled his eyes and rested his head on my hand. "But I can stay. It's no big deal. It's just food."

"Newt, I can see that you're hungry," I said to him knowingly. "You haven't eaten since yesterday. Go fill up your stomach." When Newt looked like he was about to refuse again, I cut him off. "No buts. Besides, if you don't eat you'll get skinny and unhealthy, and you won't be so good-looking anymore."

At that, the blond boy smirked. "I'm good-looking?"

"You won't be if you don't eat," I responded, smiling widely and poking his chest.

"Fine," Newt sighed, catching my poking hand and caressing it gently. He laughed and said, "I'll bring some food back for you, okay?"

"Why can't I go myself?"

"Clint said you're on bed rest," Newt answered smugly. "So I'll be the one taking care of you."

"Okay, fine," I nodded, kissing him lightly on his lips. Newt grinned and placed a soft kiss on the corner of my lips. Playfully, he kissed my cheek, forehead, nose, and started going down my neck. I giggled as his breath tickled my skin. "Newt, no. You aren't distracting me. Go get food."

Chuckling, he rested his forehead against mine and entwined our fingers. He inhaled deeply and smiled. "I'm glad you're back," he breathed out against my lips. "I like you here with me."

"Me too," I said, squeezing his hand and kissing him quickly. "But you still have to go eat," I added with a sly smile when he didn't move.

"Okay, okay," Newt laughed, removing his hands from me and walking to the door. "I'll be right back."

"No, eat until you're full first," I retorted. He gave me a final grin before stepping out. I hollered, "Don't be back in ten minutes or less!"

I heard his faint reply of 'understood!' before his footsteps turned hollow and disappeared. My ears picked up sounds of voices outside the door not a second later, and I strained to hear. Two voices—one asked 'is she awake? Can I see her?' and the other retorted with a 'yeah, go keep her company.'

The door to the med-room shook as I braced myself for who it would be. The door opened to reveal Chuck, standing in the middle of the doorway with his arms on his waist like a superhero. He beamed when he saw me, and bounced over to my bed.

"Andy! You're awake!" he exclaimed, rushing to hug me.

"Hey, Chuck!" I laughed, wrapping my arms around him and swayed from right to left over and over. "There's my little bro. So…what'd I miss when I was gone?"

When he pulled away, I ruffled his hair affectionately. He happily replaced Newt in the chair next to me and started babbling away. "Not much. The girl came but they just put her here, nothing else. Oh! And Newt stayed outside all night, you know! Minho too, and me! Of course, I had to wait until Thomas was asleep…but that's not important. But he sleeps really late though. I had to pretend to close my eyes for, like, an hour before he finally doze off! Then Frypan told me to clean up a few leftover dishes, but it was cool—I went through his fridge! It was shucking awesome! Then Wes asked if I could follow him to the bathroom because he was scared! Hear that? The shank was scared to klunk in the dark! And then I stayed with Minho outside and-"

I grinned as Chuck continued, not bothering to stop and see my reaction. It wasn't a bad one, though. Since the black outs and events that occurred, he really was the sun through the grey clouds that I needed. That was one of those rare times I actually liked listening to Chuck's rants.

* * *

><p>That evening, after I tried to persuade Clint to let me go back to the Ranch—and was denied every single time—he decided to lock me in the med-room. It wouldn't have been that bad if it weren't for the sleeping girl in the bed next to mine. Creepy thoughts made their way into mind as she laid almost lifelessly—the slow rise and falls of her chest being the only sign that she was alive.<p>

I was just waiting for the moment where she would snap her eyes open and attack me like a raged lunatic.

After Newt brought me food and sent Chucky away, he stayed for a couple of hours. We talked about random things, stole a few kisses here and there and tried to figure out what my memories meant. Alby came along a few hours ago to interrogate me and ask if I still remembered anything. Nothing came back to me unfortunately, so with Newt's help, he gave up and left. Alby dragged Newt away to the Track-hoes though, claiming that the blond boy was slacking off.

So there I was, all alone in the locked room, save for the comatose girl a few feet away. I would turn my head to study the girl a few times, and questioned why I said that the girl was bad. Clint and Alby concluded that the unconscious girl was dangerous because of how I claimed that they sent her up as a trigger. _Yeah, but they still left you in a room with her_, my mind scoffed.

Even if I was a little bit crept out by her, she didn't look threatening. In fact, she looked quite innocent. Alby wasn't too sure of her presence in the Glade, and I didn't understand why. She was sent here just like every one of us—only difference was that she brought a note, knew Thomas and I, fell into a coma, and the Box just so happened to go down with me after she arrived.

Yeah, that wasn't such a huge problem, was it?

I sighed in boredom as I rested my head against the wall, the papers Clint wrote on still in my hands. I tried remembering and staring at the words for a long while, hoping that something would magically pop in my head, but nothing did.

A rustling sound of keys caught my attention. I sat up straight, ready to hassle Clint into granting me liberation from bed rest. When the door opened though, I saw that it wasn't Clint—it was Minho. Black eyes stared back at me as he froze in the doorway, blinking when he saw that I was awake.

Trying to avoid any awkward situations since we haven't really apologized officially, I just smiled. "Hey, Min."

"Uh, hey," he answered, scratching the back of his head. He shut the door and walked over to me hesitantly. His mouth opened a few times with words to speak out, but nothing escaped. Finally, he settled with, "You're awake."

"_Have_ been awake," I sighed glumly. "For hours now. Sadly, I'm on bed rest. Didn't anyone tell you?"

Minho shook his head, standing awkwardly facing me. Since he was taller than me sitting on a bed, I had to look up. "Nope. I, uh, ran straight here, actually. No pit stops whatsoever."

"Oh," I said and smiled, knowing that he was supposed to go to the Map Room first thing after Running. Instead, he came here. I couldn't stop myself from asking though, "Not the Map Room first? A sudden Gathering, maybe?"

Minho winced slightly at my sharp tone, and I wouldn't have caught it if it weren't for the faint scrunch of his eyes. It was wrong of me, but I was still figuring out how to correctly break down the whole apologizing method. _What better way to start the convo, right?_ I muttered mentally.

"There's no Gathering," Minho mumbled, huffing and looking down at his feet. "The Map Room's not that important…right now."

"Oh, yeah. Why in the world did I think otherwise?" I murmured above my breath, rolling my eyes. When I saw Minho frown, I realized how I was acting a bit too spiteful. It wasn't his entire fault either, and I wasn't being fair. Sighing I tried to manage a weak smile. "Gosh, this is awkward, isn't it? I'm sorry."

A smile came over Minho's face at my straightforward apology. I returned it back, smiling even brighter. Frankly, things always tended to happen before I knew it was going to happen. I never seemed to be ready for anything these days, and was taken by surprise most of the time.

So yes, it _was_ shocking when Minho wrapped his arms around me tightly in a bear hug and lifted me up. I let out a tiny squeak as my butt left the bed, and felt my body being spun around in Minho's arms. He was taller than me, so when he twirled with me in his arms like a rag doll, I kept my grip around him firmly in fear he'd accidently slip or toss me away.

"Minho!" I yelped, my feet stretching to reach for the floor. "Put me down! Are you serious?"

After a hearty laugh, Minho settled me back down on the ground. I couldn't help but smile as I steadied myself, holding onto him so I wouldn't stumble over the dizziness. I straightened my clothes and stared up at Minho, pleased that no heart-to-heart was needed between us for apologies. Honestly, I wouldn't know how to speak up if things got deep and heartfelt.

Minho smiled back at me, but he seemed hesitating to do something. I had a guess to what it was though, and threw myself at him. He automatically wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace as I my hands encircled his chest—because he was just so tall. I pressed my head against his chest and mumbled out, "I'm sorry for being bitchy just now, and that I annoyed you that day…and also for avoiding you."

"Why the shuck are _you_ apologizing?" Minho scoffed, resting his head above mine. "It was my fault. Everything was. I was just stressed out and stupid, and I'm sorry."

"It's not all-"

"No, wait. Before anything else," he cut me off, breaking the hug to rub his hands nervously. "I spent all day in the Maze—yesterday _and_ today—just trying to come up with an apology speech…and I'm quite proud of what I conjured."

Resisting the urge to smile widely, I asked, "Really? An apology speech?"

"Yes, now slim it and let me talk," he retorted playfully. Exhaling deeply, he started. "Andy, I'm…_sorry_," he said before scrunching his face. "And, uh, I'm an ass-no, wait. That's wrong. I mean, you're my best friend. It was wrong of me to shout at you like that. I was being an asshole…um…what the shuck comes next?" he muttered as I laughed. "Oh, yeah! The reason I blew up was cause I was having a rough day. With Ben and the Gathering and you getting attacked by Ben-"

"Thomas got attacked, not me," I interjected.

"Yeah, but the psycho shank managed to hit you too, didn't he?" Minho said, huffing. "Now—back to my speech! I've noticed over the years that I…uh…I'm really bad at controlling myself when things get so stressful. So that's why I blew up at you, I've done it to many shanks here too…but it doesn't mean I should've done it to _you_. I'm a bad friend, I know. I totally understand if you want me to never speak to you again or something. Shuck, I probably deserve it. But I needed to tell you that I'm really, truly, sorry. If you don't want me around after this, I'll stay away-"

I cut Minho off with, "You're getting real dramatic here."

Minho scowled at my teasing tone, and folded his arms. He opened his mouth to continue his speech but then closed it. His eyes narrowed as he said, "You made me forget my speech!"

"Oh, thank goodness," I breathed out, laughing. "That was a horrible speech. It was like…instead of a vow, you admitted to cheating on me on our wedding day," I said before actually realizing what came out of my mouth. When I saw Minho start to smirk, I punched his shoulder and added, "And that's just a way of saying how extremely bad your speech was."

"It wasn't that bad," Minho said feebly.

Crossing my arms, I grinned. "Yeah, not that bad but it was unnecessary. I just said that _I _was sorry, and your melodramatic 'never speaking to me again' part was pretty much useless. That's never happening."

"Hey," Minho narrowed his eyes playfully. "I worked hard on that speech."

"I'm sure you did," I replied, suppressing my laughing.

Minho pushed me jokingly and turned around to remove his slim backpack. When I heard the zipper unzip loudly, I tried to look over him curiously. Minho sent me a look that told me to be patient before going back to his backpack. I scowled slightly and huffed but waited until he turned back to me.

"Okay, um," he said, holding something behind his back. I tilted my head to see but Minho moved away, shielding his back from my sight. "This is gonna maybe sound crazy…or _look_ crazy, uh, but just—shuck, I can't believe I'm doing this—just take it, okay?"

"Take what?"

Swinging his hand out from his back, he thrusted a tiny flower into my face. I blinked, observing the small, white daisy in his hand. It was drooping slightly, a few petals missing in action and looking like thick dictionaries or heavyweights had just crumpled it. A small smile spread on my lips despite that, and I felt my face heat up for some reason.

"A flower," I stated quietly. "You got me a flower?"

Minho scratched the back of his head with his free hand and shrugged uncertainly. "Yeah…um, I just saw it…in the forest," he confessed, looking down at his shuffling feet. "And I thought, why not get an apology flower, right?" I let my smile widen as he sighed. "Shuck, this is stupid. Know what, just forget I-"

"It's not stupid!" I exclaimed, grinning. Slowly taking the dwarf-like daisy from him, I twirled it in my finger. "I think it's cute, actually."

"…I guess 'cute' is okay," Minho replied, smiling bashfully.

I laughed lightly, fiddling with the wrinkly flower. It was in bad shape and I said, "Poor flower. Why did you put it in your bag? Nothing fits in there."

"I couldn't just barge in with it in my hand," he answered, shrugging. "But you, uh, like it, right? The apology flower, I mean."

Nodding, I sent Minho a genuine and thankful smile. Inspecting his nervous and awkward posture and giggled at how adorable he looked just then. Usually, Minho was composed and sarcastic and looked…_cool_. His abashed self was rare to perceive but I liked it.

"I love it," I said. "And it's a daisy, actually."

"Well, you can call it that too, if you want," he chuckled lowly.

I let out a breathy laugh again as my eyes swooped down to the flower. I twiddled it between my fingers, seeing a few torn petals drop to the floor. The place was suddenly silent—but the comforting type of silent. When I looked back up at Minho, I saw that he was staring at me with an unreadable glint in his eyes, but a soft smile on his lips.

To express my gratitude—and just because I wanted to—I hugged him again, feeling his muscled arms come up behind me. I let myself relish in his warmth and smiled, saying a quiet, "Thank you, Minho."

"Welcome," he replied softly in my ear. After a few long, tranquil moments of silence, I heard him speak again. "Hey, Andy?"

"Hm?"

"Is it okay if I get deep?" he asked, wrapping his arms tighter around me.

I frowned, knowing what he wanted to talk about. Quite honestly, I didn't want to reminisce anything about the Box after seeing Newt's reaction over it, but I hesitantly nodded. "I guess so."

"It was shucking terrible," he said shakily, his chest rumbling against my ear as he spoke. "I didn't know what to think or what to do. I mean, we just argued stupidly the day before and I was planning to apologize…but then they said you were gone. The Box broke it's own rule and brought you down," he let out a hollow chuckle. "What were the chances of that happening, right?"

The dreadful feeling of hearing him so timid pained me. Not knowing what else to say, I settled on, "I'm sorry."

"Wasn't your fault," he shook his head. "The shuck Box was a slintheaded shuck-face."

I laughed at his wording and said, "_Such_ a slintheaded shuck-face. Even though it doesn't _have _a face."

Minho joined me in laughing and I felt a quick, light pressure on the top of my head before it disappeared. I furrowed my brows, wondering if Minho just kissed my head. He had never done that before, but it felt sort of nice. I sighed and continued enjoying Minho's huggable physique. He was warm, and very cozy too.

After a few more minutes, I broke the silence. "This is getting boring. Let's talk about something fun."

Minho let go off me and rolled his eyes, albeit the playful grin on his face. "Fine. Fun. What _has_ been fun for the last 24 hours?"

"I don't know," I answered, sitting back on my wooden bed. "I don't have to work, but that's not fun at all when you compare to being here. Um…how was running today?"

As I asked that, Minho's eyes widened. A flicker of sudden realization made me frown in confusion. He let out a disbelieved breath, saying, "Shuck it. Oh man, I can't believe I forgot. First thing ever in three years—can't believe it slipped my mind."

"What?" I asked curiously.

"Today, in the Maze!" he exclaimed, pacing the room and fidgeting. "I found something—something crazy! I never thought it was possible, but I saw it with my own two eyes!"

"What? What'd you find?" I asked again, the curiosity from his quick change of emotion increasing.

Minho stopped pacing to look at me, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "A Griever, Andy. A _dead_ Griever."

"No way," I breathed out after a moment of pure silence. A Griever couldn't just die. It was huge and deathly but if so—what killed it? It couldn't have gotten into a fight with its siblings, and Gladers weren't allowed into the Maze when the doors close. So what Minho said sounded dodgy.

"I'm not lying, I _did _see one," he said firmly and started putting his backpack on. "I need to go tell Alby."

That caught my attention. Seeing Minho's bag perfectly strapped back on, I jumped off my bed to the door. "Great! Can I come too?" I asked, wanting to escape the torture of the med-room.

Minho scrunched his face, looking uncertain. "Um, not sure. Clint probably wouldn't-"

"He gave you the keys," I pointed out. "That obviously means he's freeing me!"

"Actually, the keys were hanging outside the door," Minho replied, smirking. "Sorry, Andy. I don't think Clint'll be happy to see you out and about."

"But I want to get out of here. Please, Min? _Please_?" I pleaded, pouting. "They won't be mad," I tried again, giving Minho a hopeful smile.

Minho walked over to me, placing his hands on each side of my shoulders. He sighed and led me away from the door to say something. Unfortunately though, it was me who didn't have a chance to listen when he rushed out of the room, closing it and locking the door behind me. My eyes widened when I realized what he did, and I pounded pathetically on the door.

"Minho!" I exclaimed angrily. "Get me out of here!"

"Sorry. No can do, _babe_," I heard his snicker come from beyond the door. I rapped on the door louder and Minho said, "I'll tell Newt you want out, okay? See you later!"

I frown in disbelief, knocking on the door continuously. "No, Minho! Just open it! Don't go, come on!"

"Remember not to do anything stupid!" was all I heard after that as his footsteps turned faint.

There goes that word again—remember. Combining being a prisoner in the med-room and hearing that awful word once more, I let out an annoyed huffed. Crossing my arms and sitting back on the bed, I waited for someone else to enter the room. I'll probably just push and shove the next person through the door until I'm out.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry that nothing huge and dramatic happened to Andy. Something will happen though, later on. Not yet. She just needed to be there when Minho gets stuck in the Maze—which is the next chapter! Thanks for all the reviews! But there are too much to reply to…so I'll be replying to the questions and theories and emotional ones. I'm sorry. :)**

**AnimeLover-DarkKnight321: Thanks for the review! I had to reply since you're the first reviewer for Chapter 10 and first reviews always make my day. And I'm glad that you got excited seeing that in your notifications. And thanks for loving it! :)**

**kimzie-kitty: Yes, you are my 100****th**** reviewer! I'm so happy! Unfortunately, I don't have any giveaways… :( I'm sorry. But I appreciate your long review, and I loved that you expected differently. And thanks for saying that it's your favorite chapter! I'll try writing faster. Thanks again, you are amazing! :D**

**Newtie: You wrote a long review, so thank you for that! I love them a lot. I'm sorry that you were in rage, but I loved reading your review! I imagined several different voice intonations in my head by all the exclamation marks. It brought a smile to my face. All your questions have already been answered by the chapter above. And I love you too! :)**

**GirlWhosWaiting: I was literally checking my phone every hour just to see if you reviewed. I love reading your reviews! You make my day everytime, and it was hard to not smile in front of people because they get suspicious when I smile at my phone…but anyways, I love you for reviewing! And thanks for saying I'm your favorite! You are amazing too, and always will be! Thanks once more for reviewing so lengthy again! :D**

**Newtella: I had to reply to your long one. And your reference to the Man Who Can't Be Moved was brilliant. I can't believe I didn't think of that song. I hope it wasn't too painful…I like making people **_**smile**_**, not cry! Thanks for reviewing! You made me so happy! :)**

**Guest (mindylover): Thanks for the review! She **_**will **_**get the pink shoes *****spoiler much***** later on towards the end! I hope you stay tuned because next chapter is when Andy loses Minho! O.O Thanks again!**

**Megan VR: Yours is probably the longest review I have—so thank you! And thanks for loving the box dropping scenario! Everything'll be revealed one by one, so I hope you stay with the fic! Thanks also for saying there's originality in Andy. I try to diverge her from the typical 'tagging along' OC. Your comment made me smile, so thank you once again! I think I wrote too many 'thank yous', but I had to let you know how excited I was at your review! :D**

**Glowfower: I'm sorry if your theories weren't exactly accurate, but I appreciate them and your review! Thanks for loving her and her, I'm really torn between those two boys right now. They won't break up…maybe. Thanks again! :D**

**Potterheadzzz101: Thank you for saying this story is amazing—you are too! I hope you're alright with the Mindy scene above…and I love their relationship too. :)**

**Lottielue1: Thanks for your review! Andy's back though, so no heartbreaks for now! And Minho got to say sorry, and everything's happy…before the next chapter though. Sorry if you wanted Andy to forget, I just…needed her to remember. Thanks again for reviewing! :)**

**TenebrisSagittarius: Thanks for the review! I love seeing new usernames in the review areas. And thanks for saying it's amazing, it's nice to know. Vote for Newt then, if you want them together! Thanks again! :)**

**Thanks for reading!**

**PS. THIS IS WHERE I ASK IF YOU VOTE FOR NEWT OR MINHO. PLEASE TELL ME SO I CAN BE SURE WHICH BOY TO END **_**THIS **_**FIC WITH. JUST ONE REVIEW WITH A BOY'S NAME IS ENOUGH. AND IT DOESN'T MEAN NO INTERACTION WITH THE OTHER BOY IF THE WINNING BOY WINS. THE DRAMA AND TRIANGLE IS STILL ON. :D**


	12. The Maze Has No Survivors

**Disclaimer: The Maze Runner belongs to James Dashner.**

**Warning: Slight profanities.**

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><p><span>Chapter 12: The Maze Has No Survivors<span>

_Flashes of white lights blinded my eyes as I lay down on the examination table. I heard the clattering of medical equipment from my left as the person in charge readied everything for the procedure. Beside me was another boy about to go through the same course I'll be going through also. _

_I breathed in deeply, my mind registering what the entire firm was actually executing. Nothing they were doing was bad. Not everybody in the world would be happy with their research and how they carried out their trials, but it was all for the greater good. I personally wasn't a big fan of placing teenagers in dangerous mazes, but who was I to talk?_

_I helped them; I wasn't sure why, but I did. _

"_Now, Andrea," a woman said, standing beside me. "You know what to do, don't you?"_

"_Yes," I answered obediently._

"_And you understand why this is vital to us? To the human race?" she asked, raising her eyebrow almost threateningly—daring me to rebuke her._

_Nodding, I replied, "Yes. I understand. It's for a better future." _

_The woman smiled; a mechanized stretch of her lips that looked all too artificial. "Good," she said satisfactorily. "That's very good. Dr. Collins," she called, her eyes darting to the doctor beside me. "It's time for the Swipe once more."_

_My heart raced as I heard the footsteps of the person walking closer to the table I was on, the sound of necessary tools in a steel tray echoing through the room. I didn't want to do it, but I had no choice—I couldn't do anything in that moment. The desire to delay the procedure was there, but I knew it was hopeless._

"_But how will I remember?" I asked as she turned away. "How will I remember what to do?"_

_Turning to face me once more, the corner of the woman's lips curling deviously. "We will make it certain that you remember soon. I assure you that," she replied. "And don't ever forget—WICKED is good." _

_As she turned to walk away, my head fell to my side as I stared at the boy across me. His dark blue eyes stared back wildly as he shook his head, trying to tell me something. I couldn't hear unfortunately, due to the buzz in my ear. The veins from his hands bulged against his skin as he thrashed against the restrains holding him down. Something about him was familiar, but I couldn't place my hand on it._

"_What about him?" I asked quickly, my nerves getting jumpy from the doctor placing his tools down next to me. _

"_Mr. Da Vinci will undergo the exact same process as you," she answered flatly, frowning at his violent body. "I only hope you possess much more control than he does."_

"_No!" the boy screamed out, and I finally hear his voice. "Don't let them do this to you! They're wrong! They're wrong, Andy! They're using you! Don't listen to her!"_

_I frowned as he continued shouting out alarming sentences. I couldn't understand what he was talking about but I was sure that 'them' meant the whole organization. The trepidation in me increased as I felt pressure on the back of my head. _

_At his wild, suspicious gestures, I slapped the hand of the doctor away and sat up. The woman in white narrowed her eyes as she grabbed a syringe from a tray near her. Without any warning, she plunged it into the boys arm. My eyes widened as he screamed out in pain, and continued to flail around helplessly. His breathing started slowing down, and he turned his head to mine before exhaling a final word, "Don't."_

"_What did you do to him?" I asked, frowning at the woman. A few more people dressed in white appeared at the door as my voice rose in fear. "What are you doing to us?"_

"_Settle down, Andrea. It was just to calm him down," the woman said calmly. "I hope you won't be showing the same behavior as he did."_

_My eyes landed on the four newcomers by each corner of the room, observing me like a hawk. Unfortunately for her, it all just made me more agitated. "No! No, tell me what you're doing!"_

"_You already know _what_, Andrea," she replied. "We've discussed this."_

_When I felt a hand grab my arm, I yanked it away and hastily jumped off the table. "No!" I yelled, trying to run to the door. One of people that came in earlier swiftly seized me by my arms, pushing me back harshly into the arms of another person. I kicked around, my body struggling to break free from the tight grip. "Let me go! I don't want to do this!"_

"_I've warned you," the woman's voice rang in my ear from somewhere. _

"_No!" I shrieked as I felt more hands grab me and forcefully slam me on the examination table. "This is wrong! I know what you're doing! I don't want this!"_

"_You can't refuse now, Andrea," the woman chuckled mirthlessly. "You volunteered for it yourself, remember?"_

_I shook my head, my eyes squeezing shut as I tried to pull against the straps restraining me on the table. "No, I didn't…I-I don't want to anymore! Please! No! I don't want this!" I shouted out, my body thrashing about in no useful manner. _

"_It's too late, Andrea," was the only response I heard. "Too late."_

"No!" I heard an ear-piercing voice scream out as I sat up in my hammock. Cold sweat trickled down my body, my heart beating so fast that I was able to hear every thump. I breathed erratically as my hands gripped the suspended bed, taking a moment to remember where I was—my room.

My mind raced from the harsh wake up I received as the flashes and distorted images of people appeared in my head. Thinking quickly, I hastily grabbed the paper and pen that Clint left me, attempting to write down anything that came to my mind. My hand trembled as they moved on their own accord, writing words I didn't recall on the paper.

The door suddenly burst open, the sound of it slamming against the wall startling me. My head snapped up to see Newt standing in the doorway, his worried eyes on me. "I heard you screaming. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I said, shaking my head. Newt's eyebrows furrowed in objection as he saw my irregular intakes of breath and the sweat on my forehead. Trying to calm down, I wiped my face with my sleeves and sighed. "I had a dream, I think."

Newt made his way over to me and asked, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said, looking down to look at the paper. "I tried writing things down."

All I could see was three words though—and none of them triggered anything in my mind. I could feel familiar images rise in my head but something was blocking them. Frowning when I didn't remember, I handed Newt the paper.

"Swipe. Boy. Volunteer," he read out in confusion. "None sounds familiar to you?"

I shook my head, exhaling deeply. "I can't believe I don't remember. I feel like I do, but I just…don't," I spat in frustration. Letting my head fall on my palm, I groaned, "Nothing's working."

Alby and Clint let me go back to the ranch yesterday after Minho talked to them. Clint insisted that I kept a pen and paper on the desk so I could write things down if I remembered anything. He also gave me a copy of the questions and things I said the night I came back. I've tried to think all night but it was all in vain. The dreams were probably the closest thing I had to memories, but I kept forgetting as soon as I woke up.

I felt the hammock dip beside me and arms wrap around my shoulder. "It's okay," Newt said in my ear. "It's only been a day. Don't need to fret over it."

"But I want to help," I countered. "I want to remember and help! Something happened down there, I just don't know _what_."

"You have a lot more time to remember, Andy. It's not the end of the world or anything," he smiled assuredly, laying his head on mine.

Smiling back at him, I intertwined our fingers. Something about his comment made me unsettled though—what if it _was_ the end of the world? Or the Glade perhaps? The paper said that 'the ending was coming.' What _was _the ending? _Bad things,_ a voice replied at the back of my head.

"What if it _is_ the ending? I don't know what ending exactly but it was on the paper," I told Newt. "I need to know what it means."

"_Andrea_," he sighed defeatedly, and I knew that he was annoyed since he used my full name. I liked how it sounded though. "Don't worry about that, now. You just got out from the Box," he said sternly. Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, he continued, "You should go relax around the Glade, talk to people maybe?"

I breathed out and nodded my head. "Okay, fine. I will," I said, causing Newt to smile. The corner of my lips tugged when I said, "I like it when you say my full name. Don't know why."

Newt laughed and placed a small kiss on my head. "Andrea," he said again.

"Newt," I retorted, grinning. "Your name is so short," I said and narrowed my eyes playfully. "And I just realized that you're named after an amphibian."

"Yeah, I've heard that once or twice," Newt rolled his eyes, still smiling. He got off the hammock and pulled my hands, making weird faces and grinding his feet on the floor when I refused to budge.

Frowning in confusion at his vain tries in pulling me off the hammock, I asked, "Newt? What are you doing?"

Newt stopped to look at me, exaggerating his puffs and answered, "You're bloody heavy."

My eyes widened in disbelief and surprise as I pushed his hands away. "Newt! You can't say that to a girl!" Grabbing the pillow beside me, I flung it at him.

"I was only joking!" he laughed as the pillow hit him. "Really, you're probably the lightest shank in the Glade!" I didn't find it amusing though, and kept glaring at him. Newt saw it and smiled cheekily. "Here, I'll prove it to you."

With no warning, Newt suddenly hoisted me over his shoulder. I was lifted into the air as Newt burst into peals of laughter. "Newt! Put me down!" I yelled despite the small smile on my face. "Seriously, I don't like being in mid-air!"

Newt put me down and chuckled lightly as I brushed my hair and clothes back in their proper place. I rolled my eyes at his amused stare and punched his shoulder. That only made him chuckle more and grab my hand. "Come on," he said, pulling me to the door.

"Where are we going?"

"Alby and Minho are leaving to find the Griever," he answered. "Don't you want to see them?"

* * *

><p>After Newt told me about Minho and Alby deciding to inspect the dead Griever, I quickly followed him to meet them. I still thought his idea of seeing a dead Griever was unintelligent, but he was the Runner—he knew what to do.<p>

However, I still had a bad feeling about it all.

"Minho!" I called when I arrived at the West wall. I saw him and Alby all set to run out into the Maze. When I got closer to him, I narrowed my eyes. "You're still gonna see the Griever?"

The Keeper looked at me—in slight shock that I made my way to him so fast—and crossed his arms. "Good morning, Minho. Have a safe run. Oh, thanks, Andy. That's really caring of you," he said sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes, shoving him lightly. "Morning, Min."

"See? It's not hard being friendly, right? More-"

"Poised and ladylike," I interjected, smiling. "Yeah. I get it. We've done this."

I saw that Alby had a runner's backpack over his shoulder and was talking to Newt. Minho gave me a bright grin before ruffling my hair. I scowled, swatting his hands away. He laughed and said, "You have a terrible case of bed hair."

"It's called _bedhead_," I replied, running my fingers through my hair to smoothen it. I didn't realize that in my haste, I forgot to brush my hair.

"Same thing," Minho shrugged. "So what brings you here? I mean, it's not like you visit me before work every morning or something."

At his playful accusing tone, I laughed. "This is different. You're finding a _dead_ Griever," I said and suddenly frowned. "Why do you still want to find it?"

Minho sighed, having heard the same thing all night last night after I escaped the med-room. "I told you, Andy. It's the first real thing I've found in the Glade in three years. Who knows what we'll find with it?"

"So you're planning to what—dissect the Griever?" I asked, folding my arms.

"If we have to, yeah," Minho nodded. When he saw my frown deepen, he sighed and placed his hands on my shoulder. "Look, Andy. It's just a dead Griever-"

"Exactly! It's _just_ a dead Griever," I cut him off. "Nothing special. So why are you so bent on seeing it again? It might not even be there anymore. Maybe its friends brought it home for a funeral. And you said it yourself—the Maze changes every night. How will you find it?"

Minho exhaled deeply, dragging his fingers down his face in hidden exasperation. "Andy, we've talked about this," he said. "It's a dead Griever, I have to find it, show Alby and maybe get more clues. I don't know what clues, but…I just…shuck, you don't understand. I've been a Runner for three years—three shucking years! This is the first real clue I've ever found. Ever!"

"But it's a dead Griever," I insisted, not wanting him to leave because of the sick feeling in my gut. "What _clues _can it even give?"

"I don't know, Andy. But it's not something I'll just pass," Minho said stonily.

I glared at the Runner for a few seconds before sighing in defeat. There was no talking him out of it—that was for sure. I quickly pulled him into a hug, not wanting him to leave feeling annoyed at me. Minho's arms wrapped around mine naturally and I said, "Fine. Go then. But I'm expecting you back early."

Minho laughed. "Yeah, okay. Whatever the _babe _says."

Laughing, I tighten my hold around him, the queasy feeling inside me threatening to come up. I shook it away. "Be safe," I whispered softly.

"Oh come on, I'm _Minho_," he chuckled in my ear, his chest rumbling. "I've done this a thousand times."

I frowned, not completely convinced. "Yeah…but still."

Realization of how truly dangerous Minho's job was sparked in me. He was practically leaving the safety of the Glade everyday to run the Maze—the dangerous Maze that had claimed many Gladers before, mostly runners. There were risks of him not making it back before the doors closed every single day. Out there was also where the Grievers roamed, and if Ben could've been stung in daylight, then Minho could too.

It could've easily been Minho that was stung that day instead of Ben.

Only the thought of it made me sick.

"Okay, I'll be safe," Minho said finally, patting my back. Once again, I felt the quick pressure on my head and wondered if he kissed it. From the corner of my eye, I saw Newt frowning at us, and Alby tapping his foot impatiently on the ground.

I smiled as I pulled away from him and said, "Bring me back a souvenir."

"What souvenir? Griever slime?" he smirked.

"Or a mechanical eye. I don't know," I laughed, raising my shoulders. "Just…come back safely."

Minho squinted his eyes curiously, albeit the smile on his lips. "Hey, I've done this everyday, remember? I'm a pro. Nothing's gonna happen."

"I'm holding you to that," I grinned. "Now go, I think Alby's done waiting."

Minho gave me his trademark mock-salute and jogged over to Alby near the doors. They talked for a few minutes with Minho waving his arms, pointing to the insides of the Maze. After they both nodded simultaneously, they took their stance in front of the opened doors.

Right before they ran out, Minho turned to me and waved, saying, "See you when I get back!"

"Bye!" I waved back, brightly.

I barely realized Newt's presence next to me as I watched as Minho and Alby ran deep into the Maze, finally swerving into a corner and disappearing out of sight. The gnawing feeling of dread kept nagging me, but I brushed it off. Minho had been doing this for three years—what was one more day, right?

* * *

><p>Minho and Alby weren't back yet. It had been hours since they left and only an hour remained until until the Doors close. The other runners had already made it safely into the glade quite some time ago. I knew Alby wasn't much of a Runner but he couldn't be slowing Minho down that much, can he?<p>

How long does it take to check up on a dead Griever anyways?

They should've been back hours ago. Hell, they should be at the Homestead now, eating some of Frypan's stew like the other Gladers.

I sighed impatiently, tapping my fingers on a table I was leaning on. Newt, Chuck, Thomas and I were by the Homestead, staring at the Maze Door opposite us. The other Gladers were feasting on some of Frypan's cooking. Some of them tried joining us in waiting for the two Gladers to come back but Newt forced them to fill their stomachs up after a day of working.

"They're not back yet," Thomas stated—kind off a stupid statement, to be honest. We were all quite aware that Minho and Alby hadn't arrived back in the Glade. "What happens if they don't make it back in time?"

I exhaled. Leave it up to the greenie to ask stupid questions. I know he was just confused and hungry for answers since he was new, but the answer to his question was obvious. I was sure Alby already explained it all to him.

"They'll make it," Newt's voice rang out deeply from beside me.

"But what if they don't—"

"They'll make it."

Newt's voice left no room for arguments. I knew this was hard on him—Alby was his best friend. Newt was just as concerned for Alby's safety as I was for Minho. For him, it could be worse—Alby and him had been the earliest Gladers to arrive here. They built this community together and made sure to keep everyone here safe. Among the first Gladers, only both of them were left. I wouldn't know how to help if Newt lost Alby.

Thomas sighed and slumped his shoulders. I felt a pang of pity for him—he just wanted answers. I was once in his place too.

I squeezed Newt's hand, giving him a small reassuring smile before walking over to sit beside Thomas. "Newt won't say it so obviously, Thomas," I started in a whisper. "If they don't make it back in time for the Doors to stay open…"

"They die," Chuck completed my sentence.

I gave a small smile to Chuck; though I was pretty sure it looked more like a grimace. I couldn't say it. My voice refused to say what could happen—what _will_ happen—if they don't get back. The though of Minho and Alby…dying…was, well, heart wrenching. They both had done so much for he Glade. Losing them both now would be a tragic nightmare, and losing Minho was something I never wanted to think of. I sighed, trying to control the raging concern in me.

"Can't we help them? Send out a search party or something?" Thomas asked again.

I groaned inwardly. The questions were getting on my nerves. Was this how Alby felt when I first arrived here?

"Bloody he-" Newt's stressed voice interjected and paused as he breathed in deeply. "No. We can't okay? A hundred percent against the rules. Mostly now with the buggin' Doors about to close."

"But why?" Thomas persisted, making me feel like slapping the back of his head. "Won't the Grievers get them out there? Shouldn't we help?"

"Goddamn it, shut your hole, greenie!" Newt yelled as he threw his hands up in the air, his patience dissolving. "Don't you think we know that? You think I wouldn't risk my life to go in there to find those lugs? Me, Andrea, Gally, Frypan, the other Gladers…you think we _want _to leave them out there?"

Thomas shook his head frantically, his face red with embarrassment. "No…I…sorry…I didn't mean…" he trailed off after stumbling over his words. His shoulders slumped more and he looked away.

I sympathized, knowing he was just trying to help. "You don't get it, Thomas. Going out into the maze with the walls about to close is basically you begging for a death wish. We can't risk losing more lives," I explained, my eyes never leaving the grey doors. "If they don't make it back in time…"

I looked at Newt to see his face soften. He sighed before saying, "They swore an oath, just like every Glader here did. You can't go out at night, ever. No matter what."

Silence was what replaced Thomas' voice. He stopped asking questions and just stared at the giant doors. Surprisingly though, the silence turned out to be much worse than I expected. I almost wished he would continue asking so I can answer and get my mind off Minho and Alby.

"I'm gonna go…" I muttered as I got up quickly, dusting the invisible dust off my pants. "…get a closer look."

Not that it would actually help in any way, but sitting around and just staring at the doors made me unsettled. Not long before I started my journey, Thomas and Chuck caught up to me. I couldn't even attempt a smile for them, knowing that there was a big chance that Minho and Alby _would not_ make it back in time.

Soon, we reached the Maze Door that Minho and Alby used to take off this morning. If anything, I knew that Minho would always make it back through the door he left.

After half an hour of waiting in tense silence right by the Maze Doors, I noticed that more Gladers were crowding around Thomas, Chuck and I. They were understandably waiting for Minho and Alby, just like we were.

"Has this ever happened before? Minho or Alby not arriving on time?" Thomas started questioning again.

"Well, Alby's not a Runner but Minho's done this multiple times. Scared the shuck out of me too…" I smiled a little, remembering some of the times I would wait anxiously for him to arrive back in the Glade when the other Runners came back without him. "…but he always made it before the doors closed. He's too smart to get lost."

Thomas nodded. "So…you're really close to him, aren't you? Minho, I mean," it was more like a statement, the way he said it. I scrutinized him to see if he meant anything else but no. He was just curious.

"Yeah," I answered. "He's my best friend here."

A minute passed, with him trying to think of a question that wouldn't sound too heavy. "What time does the Door usually close?" he asked again.

"Seven," another voice answered. I knew the voice all too well. Turning my head, I gave Newt a small smile.

"Do you guys have…watches or something?" Thomas asked.

"A big one inside the homestead. Besides that, the Runners have watches…to keep track of time," I answered him, frowning when still nothing succeeded to show up in the Maze entrance.

Newt walked over to me and slowly intertwined his fingers with mine. He squeezed it gently before taking a look at me. I looked back, seeing the his eyes start to moist ever so lightly. I've never seen him this sad since I've been here. If Alby and Minho didn't make it back tonight, I didn't know how it would change him. For reassurance, I squeezed his hand back, mentally telling him that it would be fine and Alby and Minho would run back into the Glade all hero-ishly just a few minutes from the doors closing.

All the Gladers were gathered by the Door, keeping an eye out for their leader and lead Runner. A few more minutes passed with no sign of them.

"The Doors close in two minutes," Newt said to Thomas and I solemnly. His statement brought fear to me. Tears stung my eyes but I refused to let them fall. Where were Minho and Alby? They had to come back—they just _had_ to. Shuck it, they _needed_ to come back.

What will I do without Minho's sarcastic jokes? What will the Gladers do without their leader? What will the Runners do without their Keeper? The whole Glade will be drowned in chaos.

"Guys, really. We can't send someone out?" Thomas tried again.

Gally—who was crouched by the edge of the right wall—shook his head. "It's against the rules," he said, voice laced with controlled dejection. "It's either they make it back or they don't."

A loud boom sounded through the Glade, signaling what was about to happen. I choked on my breath, still seeing nothing but emptiness in the Maze. Slowly, the grinding, ear-splitting sound of metal against metal started.

The doors were closing.

"Oh no…" Chuck breathed out shakily from beside me.

The right wall started moving to it's corresponding wall—the sound, move and height intimidating. I shook my head in disbelief. "No, no, no. This can't be happening…"

The only reply I got was the heartless crunching sound of the walls closing in. The tears were already leaking out of my eyes. I bit my lips and covered my mouth with my hand, not bearing to think of Minho and Alby out there, attacked by Grievers. I heard Newt's exhale of defeat and the multiple others from the Gladers. I looked down, unable to look into the insides of the horrid Maze.

"There!" I heard Thomas shout. "I see them!"

My eyes snapped up immediately to see Minho. Only, the sight made my heart clench even more than it did before—Minho was propping Alby up behind him, wobbling as quickly as he could to make it to us. He looked worn out, tired, exhausted and defeated. He was covered in dirt and sweat from all his running and by the looks of it, something more.

"They got him!" he shouted. "Alby's stung!"

* * *

><p>It was like something from my worst nightmare. No, scratch that—even my nightmares weren't as bad as this. Never have I ever imagined Minho in this position—the cool, deft, easygoing Minho trying his hardest to carry a stung Alby back through the closing doors.<p>

The doors were closing too fast. I let out a strangled whimper when Alby fell to the ground, out of Minho's hands. Minho tried desperately to get him up but ended up just dragging him by the leg as fast as he could, with all of the strength he had left, to the doors.

"Come on, Minho!"

"You gotta leave him!"

"They're not going to make it!"

"Minho, hurry up!"

Shouts and yells erupted from the Gladers. They all screamed for Minho to hurry and leave Alby, but I knew him. Minho wouldn't do that—not while there was still hope for Alby to get better with the Grief Serum; just like he did when he found Ben.

In that moment, I cursed that side of him—the thoughtful and determined side of him that wouldn't leave a friend behind when there was still a chance for them.

The tears were flowing, and though the whole Glade was screaming at him to hurry, I couldn't voice out anything. The image of Minho, looking so broken and exhausted yet determined to get Alby back despite the giant Maze Doors closing was too much. The cruel grinds of the wall continued, as if mocking us all.

My eyes met Minho's weary ones. I cringed inwardly at his state. He kept his eyes on mine, crying out fiercely while pulling Alby's body.

"Come on, Min! Hurry!" I finally choked out loudly.

It was impossible though. I knew it was. The walls were only a few meters away from each other and Minho and Alby were still a hundred feet away to making it. The walls were so close to each other now that I had to move in its direction just to keep eye contact with Minho. He knows he won't make it—I _know_ he knows—but he still didn't give up.

I exchanged one last desperate look with him before something else happened.

"No, Tommy. Don't you bloody do it!"

I shouldn't be too shocked but I was. It was Thomas—the thoughtless, _'too-curious-for-his-own-good'_ greenie.

Newt's voice snapped me out of my eye contact with Minho just as Thomas bolted through the small gap between the walls. I was shocked that he could actually fit through and make it across.

"Thomas, no!" Chuck screamed out,

The Maze Doors shut with an awful _boom_, silencing the whole Glade. Everyone stood frozen, not knowing what to do. I couldn't hear Minho's barbaric cry or Thomas' voice anymore—the walls decided to mute it all by sealing shut. The tears that were flooding out just a few seconds ago halted just like my entire body did.

Nobody said a word.

It was unbelievable—Alby was gone. The leader of the Gladers—the person who built and kept this community alive for so long was gone. Minho; the keeper of the Runners—the person who knew the Maze better than anyone here and _my best friend_ was also gone.

And Thomas. He was an idiot—a stupid, shuck-faced, idiotic, reckless boy greenie. He knew what would happen. He knew the rules and everything…who did he think he was? If anyone, it was I who should have run out to save Minho and Alby—not him. He barely knew both! And he too was gone.

A soft breeze blew through all of us and it snapped me out of my frozen stature. It all hit me once again—Minho was gone. The Maze was deadly at night and he was out there!

_No one survives a night in the Maze_.

I didn't know if Minho could survive. With Alby stung and Thomas being a shucky slinthead, it was impossible to have false hope that he could come back in the morning. He was a Runner but he had limits. No one could keep running for hours when Grievers were loose.

Not even Minho.

Not even ol' sarcastic, bossy, comical, laid-back, embraceable Minho.

The tears started cascading again and I sniffed. Not bothering the other Gladers, I pushed though them and ran as fast as my legs could take me to the Ranch. Slamming the door shut, I ran to my room and sunk down to the floor, holding my head in my hands while crying.

It seemed to come and hit me continuously; Minho was gone, but I knew exactly where he was. What made it feel like torture was the fact that I knew that I was helpless. Knowing that what roamed the horrendous Maze at night didn't help in the slightest. If it was true that nobody could survive the night there, then Minho was already gone. It was like a cruel mantra that was impossible to stop.

Minho was _gone_.

* * *

><p>I laid down on my hammock, sobs racking my body. I couldn't think straight. My mind was messed up as I thought back to the Doors closing and trapping the three unfortunate—and one stupid—Gladers in there. I didn't know how long it's been since it happened but I do know that I've been crying for a long time. My eyes were throbbing violently but the tears wouldn't stop. They kept falling and wetting my cheeks and shirt—it looked like someone spilt a glass of water on my shirt, frankly.<p>

Everytime I tried to stop crying, my lips would tremble and I would once again start crying—if possible—harder than the last time. That repeated over and over until I lost count.

The tiny, narrow gaps through the wood in the wall showed me it was already dark out. I contemplated going to the kitchen for some food but threw that thought away, the exhaustion of crying finally crashing down on me. Sucking in a deep breath, I tried lifting myself off of the hammock to at least go wash my face, change, and settle in for the night but ended up falling back onto the bed, tears threatening to escape my eyes again. I gave up and just continued weeping on the resting contraption, staring aimlessly at the ceiling.

After what felt like _hours_, I heard someone knock on my door. Since I was too lost in my thoughts and misery, the knock made me jump in surprise. I hastily sat up on the hammock and wiped my tears away furiously.

"Come in," I said in a croaky voice.

The door was slowly pushed open and I saw blond hair sticking in. "Andy?"

"Yeah," I answered and cleared my throat from my raspy voice. "Newt?"

"It's me," he answered, coming in and closing the door. In his hands was a plate with food but I didn't bother seeing what. It hurt to even _focus_ my eyes on anything after the huge amount of crying I did. Newt walked over to me and sat the plate on the desk. "Are you okay?"

I wanted to scoff and laugh out loud at his idiotic question but refrained myself. "My best friend is trapped inside of the Maze," I answered bitterly. "Yeah, I'm _okay_. I'm just _peachy_. I feel like someone just poured a bucket of roses over my head."

Newt's face contorted in hurt and I immediately felt bad. I was being a bitch to him for no reason—he wasn't the one who closed the Maze Doors. It was the Creators. He also lost Alby and Minho. I was being unfair and I knew it, but I was angry and sad and over emotional.

"Sorry," I breathed out after a while. "I'm being a bitch, I know."

I felt the space beside me sink and Newt's warm arms wrapped themselves around me. "It's okay," he whispered softly. "You just lost your best friend. You deserve to be whatever you want now."

A pathetic sob escaped my lips as I leaned in to Newt's warmth and cried into his chest. His hands tightened around me as he rested his chin on top of my head, stroking parts of my hair and shoulder. The heartache in me seemed to lessen a bit but not by much. The comfort was nice though, and certainly what I needed.

"I just can't believe they're gone," I choked out, shaking my head. "They can't be gone, Newt. _They can't be_."

Newt didn't answer and just continued to hold me comfortingly while I cried into his shirt. All of a sudden, he let go of me and leaned back against the wall, kicking his shoes off. I did the same, leaning back into his arms and pulling my legs to my chest. Newt placed a kiss on my head and pulled me to him tighter, allowing me continue sobbing on his chest.

I didn't know how long we stayed in that position but after a few more sobs, my tears dried up. "Newt?" I called out meekly, afraid that he might be asleep.

"Hm?" he hummed, his chest vibrating.

"Are you sleeping?"

"No," he answered softly. I noticed his fingers still stroked my hair comfortingly and smiled. He then asked, "Why? You sleepy?"

Shaking my head, I slowly sat back up as he released his hold on me. "Nah, I'm…" I trailed off, not sure what to say. I wasn't fine, obviously, and neither was he. I just settled with an, "…okay."

I gave Newt a small smile as I sat up straighter, rubbing the dried tear tracks off my face. I then proceeded to rub my whole face because it was oily. After brushing through my hair and composing myself, I glanced back at Newt to see him smiling slightly. I could still see traces of sadness in his eyes so I smiled back at him.

Letting out a breathy chuckle, I shook my head and said, "I'm being so selfish right now," Newt's eyebrows scrunched in confusion and I shook my head and smiled sadly. "How about you? Are _you _okay?"

Newt's eyes dimmed and he looked away from me. His shoulders slumped as he shrugged and said, "I don't know."

My heart clenched at his words. Slowly, I slipped my hands into his and squeezed them together. Looking back at him, I smiled comfortingly, trying to make his dejection fade. Newt gave me a small smile back but it was tinted with despair and sorrow, making me lose my smile. I sucked in a deep, sharp breath as I tried thinking of words to help him.

"Look, Newt. I know that Alby was your best friend…and all…uh," I paused, not knowing what else to say. "And you both have been here longer…together…wait-hold on," I grumbled, losing the words inside my head. "Alby is…"

"Alby is…?" Newt inquired, his lips quirking slightly.

I stared at him for a moment, feeling a small grin creep over my mouth, mirroring him. "I'm not good at this," I finally scoffed out. "I'm only good at happy things."

Newt laughed softly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah but you just lost someone too. Your head's just messed up."

I smiled softly, though I was certain it was halfheartedly. Newt suddenly got down from the hammock and reached for the plate of food he brought in. As it got closer, I saw that it was slices of apples—well, what _could _be determined as slices of apples. They were sliced horribly, with some bigger than others. He sat back down on the hammock and held it out to me.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"No thanks," I shook my head, feeling sick as I saw the apples. "I…can't eat."

Newt sighed and frowned. "Come on, Andy. You haven't eaten since this afternoon."

"I _can't eat_, Newt," I pressed, pushing the plate away. "I'll throw up if I do."

Newt leaned back against the wall, setting the plate down on his lap. He stared at me hardly for a moment before sighing defeatedly. "Fine. You want me to go get some tangerine, then?"

"No, Newt!" I huffed, grabbing the plate from his lap and stretching my hand out to place in on the nearby desk. Then, I leaned back on the hammock and rested my head against his shoulder. Automatically, Newt wrapped a hand around me. "I just need _you_ here, okay? Not food."

Nodding, Newt placed his chin above my head and kept it there. The peaceful silence lasted only for a few minutes before Newt murmured, "But I sliced the apples myself."

The unexpected comment made me chuckle, and I did. I sat up from nestling into Newt's shoulder and grinned at him. "Really? You sliced them yourself?"

"Mhm."

I let out a breathy laugh and shook my head. "No wonder they look so…crooked," I teased. Newt scrunched his brows and I laughed, kissing his shoulder. "Thanks, though. That was really thoughtful of you," I smiled. "Maybe I will eat some."

Once again, I stretched out to reach the plate and pulled it towards me. I sat it down on my laps and took a bite out of one. "Well, good news," I said after swallowing the apple. "Your horrible slicing skills didn't affect the taste of the apples."

Newt rolled his eyes playfully. "Don't complain and just eat."

I continued eating the awfully sliced apples, feeling a little bit better from the nutriments that filled my empty stomach. I caught Newt's eyes staring at the slices of apple a bit too long than it should have, and narrowed my eyes.

"Newt," I started skeptically. "Have you eaten yet?"

Newt blinked and opened his mouth to answer. Unfortunately, nothing came out and he shut his mouth. I put on a suspicious face and stared him down, only for him to look away. He scratched the back of his head and fidgeted on the hammock, making me smirk.

"You _hypocrite_," I spat despite the small smile on my face. "You freaking hypocrite."

"I couldn't really-"

"Blah blah blah, whatever," I cut him off and thrusted an apple into his hands. "Eat this."

"Wha-? No. They're for you."

"_Eat it_, Newt," I ordered, glaring at him. "Or I'll force it down your throat."

Newt scoffed and rolled his eyes. "No, Andy. I got them for you so you eat-"

I silenced Newt by shoving a small apple into his opened mouth, pushing my hands against his mouth to force it inside. He made sounds of refusal and refused to open his mouth for the rest of the apple to come in, so I pinched his arm. He yelped and I finally shoved the whole apple inside, careful not to make him choke.

"There. _You_ eat it," I smiled, satisfied. "I'm not eating that. It has your saliva on it," I said and took another bite of my slice of apple. Newt was glaring at me, begrudgingly munching on the apple in his mouth. "Come on, chew faster. That's all you have to do—chew and swallow. Leave the rest up to your digestive organs."

Newt finally swallowed the apple and wiped his mouth. "That was rude, y'know."

"I know. You want another one?" I asked, holding another slice out to him. "I saw you eyeing it earlier. Go on, eat it."

Sighing, Newt finally took it and ate it. We both simply sat on the hammock and enjoyed the slices of apples. I couldn't help but smile at the situation we were in—first we mourned over our friends and then ended up sharing apples. It was weird.

The reminder of Minho made me stop chewing slowly. I swallowed my last apple as it suddenly started to taste bland. Newt ate the last apple on the plate and I set it back on the desk afterwards. Immediately, I went back to my original position in Newt's arms. I started thinking of Minho and Alby again—and this time, also Thomas.

"Thomas is an idiot," I mumbled out.

"Hm?" Newt replied quizzically.

"Thomas, the boy greenie," I clarified resentfully. "How could he just run out there just like that? He's only been here for two days. Not even a week—_only five days_! What…_nerve _he had to just throw caution to the wind and run out there, like Minho and Alby were his best friends he couldn't live without—that he just _had_ to save!"

Newt remained silent, knowing that I needed to vent. I thought more of Thomas and blamed his existence for everything. Since he came to the Glade, everything went wrong—Ben was banished for attacking someone he never met, the Girl arrived with a strange note _three_ _days_ after him, I was brought back down, Minho and Alby were _gone_ and he just broke the number one rule of never going into the Maze.

Just like that.

Who did he think he was?

"Seriously, he's so freaking dumb! No one would do that. No one would just…risk it all and run into the damn Maze like they owned the place—no one but him! Who does he think he _is_?" I snarled, feeling angry. "How dare he just run in there like he knew Minho and Alby since childhood? _We _were their friends—us! Not _him_. He didn't even _know _Minho 'til a couple of days ago. If it was anyone who should've ran into the Maze, it should've been us! Not him! He just…ruins _everything_!" I screamed out.

"If Minho and Alby had any chance of surviving, it's all destroyed now just because of him. He's useless! What could he possibly _do _to help them in there? He's just an attention seeker! Running off into the Maze like he owned the place…the…the slinthead!"

I let out a furious cry and clenched my fists, knowing that I had nothing to take my anger out on physically. Taking in deep breaths, I tried closing my eyes to relieve my rage. Newt's warmth helped immensely.

"Feelin' better, love?" Newt asked softly. My anger dissolved at his calm and patient voice.

"A bit…" I sighed. "I still blame Thomas, though. I really just…don't like him right now."

I felt Newt nod on top of my head. "S'okay. You're not the only one," he said.

Calming down, I leaned in deeper into Newt's comfort. After awhile, I realized that Newt wasn't budging even though it seemed to be late.

"Are you staying here?" I asked, a hopeful tone in my voice.

"If you want me to," Newt answered, kissing my hair. "I can't leave you alone after…what _happened_, can I?"

My eyebrows knitted at the reminder but squeezed his hand, grateful that he was staying with me for the night. The position we were in wasn't exactly fit for sleeping though, since we were practically leaning against the wall from the hammock.

I slowly sat up, removing Newt's hands from mine and leaned down properly on the hammock. I patted the space next to me, inviting him to lie down. He did just that and his arms once again wrapped around me. I started stroking his hair softly, comforting him the best that I could.

A thought popped into my head as I realized we were both sharing our weight on the hammock. "What if the hammock breaks in the middle of the night?" I asked, frowning at what could be the outcome. "That would be awkward…and painful."

"Don't worry about it," Newt chuckled, his breath lingering on my cheek. "It won't break."

"How do you know for sure?"

"I don't."

"Well, what if it does?"

"We sue Gally."

His reply made me smile as I continued stroking his hair, silently laughing into it. For the night, I was glad that Newt was here to keep me company. He was a great boyfriend, and certainly a great distraction.

Guilt hit me as I thought of Minho out in the Maze, running for his life and trying to survive a night being chased by Grievers—not to mention with Alby stung—while I was here, safe in my room and happy with Newt.

Well, I wasn't really _happy _but I did _laugh_ a few times.

Hearing Newt's soft snores, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep to get rid of the disturbing thoughts of Minho and Alby—and _Thomas_—in the Maze. I couldn't cry anymore since my tears were all dried up from my crying earlier. I was pretty sure that my eyes were blotched and red. I could also feel the swell in them as I closed my eyes.

I went to sleep, nightmares of the earlier incident replaying in my mind.

Tomorrow, when the Doors open, it would be a suspenseful day. A part of me hoped that maybe Minho would pull off the impossible and survive. Another part told me to just _stop_ hoping since _no one_ could survive the night—no matter how hard they tried.

And that included Minho.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I am so torn. The votes are literally tied. Maybe I missed count and one of them has a few more than the other, but basically it's a draw. I was hoping for a majority vote, like 20 to 5 maybe, but **_**no**_**. It just had to be a tie! Because of that, I'll just keep writing and see where it goes. However, I liked Gladress and Crofan's idea of two endings. I love both Newt and Minho and now I am cursing myself because I even made this a triangle in the first place. Oh, and thanks to all who voted!**

**sango691: Thank you so much! You are so sweet. I would want to kidnap Minho too, you know. He's great! I'm glad you loved the food fight and Newt & Andy's first kiss. You are really nice—I loved your review! I picture Andy like the cover picture—Elle Fanning—because of her hair color actually, but I don't mind how anyone else pictures her. You can even picture yourself, or any actress you like! I've watched some Saoirse Ronan movies like the Host, the Lovely Bones and Hanna. She's really pretty, isn't she? You can picture Andy as her if you want. It's totally up to the reader! I sent you a description of Andy's physical appearance so you can draw her like you wanted to. :)**

**Lottielue1: You always review, so thank you! Thanks for voting for Minho! :)**

**Laurafxox: I love long reviews. You make me want to dance on top of a bus! Thanks for loving the 'box dropping' scene! Thanks for shipping Newt/Andrea! I personally don't know how to write a breakup scene between them too because I just…can't see it happening. But we'll see. I am so sorry for no Gally in this chapter—or the next actually—but the Gathering's coming and he'll be there! And I have plans for him because I didn't like that he just got taken by a griever in the book. All your questions will be answered later on…I think. Thank you again! You are amazing! :)**

**MeganVR: Thank you for reviewing! I used to think I was for Newt too, but then the amazing Minho just barges in and…I am torn in two. I love your detailed review about the Box and variables. I appreciate them so much! Intense…hmm…I guess they are. Is that bad or good? Thanks anyways for the review! :)**

**AnimeLover-DarkKnight321: Thanks for the review! I am smiling cause you wrote favorite author. Thank you, loads! :)**

**PythagTheDragon: I love fresh pennames in my reviews. Thank you! And thanks for your vote on Newt and your review! :)**

**TenebrisSagittarius: Thank you again for the review! I know, they are already together so it breaks my heart to think of them breaking up! Imagine how awkward it'll be if they do…anyways, thank you again! I appreciate your review! :)**

**Others: Thanks for all the reviews and follows and favorites! Every single one means so much to me! And thanks for all the votes too. You all are amazingly awesome. :D**

**Thanks for reading! :)**


	13. A Bloody Miracle

**Disclaimer: I am not James Dashner**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 13: A Bloody Miracle<span>

"_They got him! Alby's stung!"_

"_They're not going to make it!"_

"_Come on, Min! Hurry up!"_

"_Don't you bloody do it, Tommy!"_

"_Thomas, no!"_

Minho's final despairing scream rung through my ears and made me woke up suddenly. I gasped, the memory of his agonizing voice echoing in my ear. I tried catching my breath, temporarily panicking when I observed my surroundings. Slowly, I regained control of myself and calmed down. My hands suddenly felt wet and I realized that I had been crying. I let out a shaky breath, swallowing the lump I felt in my throat. Slowly, I gazed around my room.

I couldn't see the Maze. There was no Minho or Thomas or Alby.

I was in my room—on my hammock with Newt.

Newt.

I looked at him, seeing a frown marring his attractive face. He started twisting and turning, eyes fluttering and trying to wake up. This alarmed me—I didn't want him waking up. Quickly, I placed my hands on his head, gently stroking his hair away from his eyes. His eyes still blinked though and he looked at me sleepily—if it weren't for how I woke up, I would be squealing at how adorable he looked.

"And…?" Newt's voice groaned. "Wha-what happened?"

"Nothing," I whispered softly, running my hands through his hair. "It's nothing, go back to sleep."

I couldn't wake him up, not when yesterday's event was still fresh in his mind. If sleep could distract him from it, then I should probably be making sure it stayed that way. "Everything's fine, Newt," I breathed out slowly, continuing my slow pace of stroking his hair. "Just sleep."

After a while, I heard his soft intakes of breath take place. Glad that he was peacefully asleep, I smiled and pressed a kiss onto his head. Ever so lightly, I lifted his head up and placed it onto the hammock. I untangled myself from him slowly and finally got free. He shuffled about and looked like he was about to wake up, so I quickly ran my hands though his hair again while shushing him. Immediately, Newt took a deep breath and relaxed. When the rises and falls of his chest entered a steady rhythm, I let go.

I looked around the room for a moment and sighed. I was pretty sure that I was dirty and smelly. I probably needed a shower more than anything right now but I just couldn't take one. Looking at my towel hung by the metal rods, I slumped my shoulders, cringing at the thought of cold water at this time of the morning…or night. I wasn't sure since it was still dark out. I wondered what time it was.

Smiling one last time at Newt's peaceful state, I forced myself to leave the room. _At least one of us could sleep peacefully. _

I trudged out the front door and looked around the Glade. Everything was quiet. Not a sound was heard. Even the cows and sheeps were fast asleep; muting their senseless 'moos' and 'baas'. I inhaled deeply and released, loving the smell of fresh, cold, morning air. It was dark out and only tiny fire lamps from the Homestead were my source of light. I rubbed my face with my sleeves, getting any excess dried tearstains and dirt off.

Exhausted, I trudged up to the maze Doors. I didn't really know why I did it but I needed to be there. When the Doors open, I wanted to be the first person to see what was on the other side. I dreaded what I could find—bodies, shirts, blood.

The worst-case scenario that could probably happen is finding nothing. No Minho, Thomas or Alby…nobody. No evidence that they've been taken by a Griever and absolutely no clue if they're alive or dead. I needed to know for sure though, if they were either alive or dead. The cold air hit my skin and I hugged myself, trying to keep warm. The loose but thin overshirt covering my tank top was not much help.

As I got closer to the Doors where yesterday's incident took part, I started seeing a silhouette of a person. It was hard to make out in the dark, but the short height and chubby frame of the person alerted me who it was instantly—Chuck. Confused as to why he was there—standing in front of the Maze Doors at _god-knows-what-time _instead of sleeping—I walked faster.

"Chuck?" I whispered as I neared him.

The chubby boy turned around to face me and my heart clenched at the sight. His face was wet with tears and dry tear tracks. His eyes were hollow, staring at me like I just fed his puppy to the Grievers. He looked extremely drained and distraught at the same time. His posture was bent over, hunched and motionless. He looked into my eyes and I wondered if I was looking back at myself.

Did I look as bad as he did? Or was I worse?

"Hey," he greeted, his usual happy voice cracking slightly.

"Hey, Chuck," I replied, smiling tiredly. "What time is it?"

"I don't remember…it was about 4:30 when I left my hammock just now," he said with no smile on his face. "I left a long time ago."

"What are you doing out here?" I asked.

"I couldn't go to sleep. I tried and always ended up waking up again, so I just gave up," he explained. "You?"

"I just woke up…couldn't go back to sleep," I mumbled. "Not after yesterday."

The words came out of my mouth before I could even register it. I knew it was a bad idea to remind Chuck of the tragedy first thing in the morning but I couldn't stop myself. The image of Minho and Alby was still fresh in my mind, haunting me. The closed Maze Doors stood proud in front of me, seeming to mock my misery. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't distract myself to think of something else that was not Minho.

"They're not coming back, are they?" Chuck's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked down at him, seeing his sad, bloodshot eyes. I swallowed, not really knowing how to answer him. I blinked and let the silence pass for a while.

It all suddenly hit me how Chuck was really close to Thomas. Other than me, Thomas was his best friend. Since he got here, Chuck had been spending most of his free times trying to talk to Thomas. I could clearly see that it bothered Thomas sometimes but unlike the other Gladers, he was nice. He didn't treat Chuck like some nuisance just because he was younger and livelier.

By the looks of it, Chuck really liked Thomas.

I sighed, not able to stand up anymore. I plopped down onto the hard ground, still not answering Chuck. I didn't want to give him false hope but I still wanted to comfort him.

"Come here," I patted the ground beside me. "Lie down."

"What?"

"Come on, Chuck. You need some sleep," I said softly. "You can lie on my lap if you want."

Hesitantly, Chuck got down on the ground and awkwardly sat beside me. Seeing him so awkward made me laugh. I crossed my legs to get more comfortable and patted my right thigh.

"You don't know how to lie down on a lap, Chuck?" I laughed at his rarely timid self. "Here," I said, grabbing him by the shoulders. Forcefully, I laid his head on my lap as his body was sprawled out on the grass. "Better?"

"I guess, yeah," Chuck smiled, relaxing. After a few minutes of content silence, he called, "Hey, Andy?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think…my mom used to do this to me?"

I blinked back, shocked at his words.

"I mean—I must've had a mom before this, right? Do you think she ever did this to me? Let me lie on her lap…and do that thing you do to my hair?"

It took me a while to realize that I had been stroking his hair just like I had Newt. Chuck's question came back to me and I bit my lip. I didn't really remember anything but I was sure he had great parents. To be so happy and positive all the time, he must have been raised with full of love and care.

I smiled and said, "I think you're mother used to do more than this. I'm pretty sure she used to tuck you in to bed, kiss your forehead and wish you goodnight…she probably read you a bedtime story, too. While doing that, she would brush your hair comfortingly…or even tickle you when you were being smart with her. I'm sure she sang you lullabies and bought cute little nightlights to make sure you didn't get scared in your room," I whispered, still lightly stroking his hair. "And I'm a hundred percent sure that she said 'I love you' to you every night before you went to bed."

Chuck's smile widened, making me feel accomplished. His eyes were gleaming with tears, reflected by the light illuminated from the Homestead. He then laughed quietly and asked, "Can you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Read me a story…or sing me a lullaby? Thomas said he heard you sing in the forest that day."

Thomas did hear me—the day Ben attacked. I racked my brains for a story to read to Chuck—anything besides a song!—but like always, all I found was an empty space. I sighed, feeling upset that I couldn't read anything for him. I guess I'll just have to try the song. Surprisingly, after everything sinking back into my locked treasure chest, the song itself hadn't.

"I don't know any stories, but yes, I can sing you song," I said. "It's not really a _lullaby_ though…more like a slow song from my past life, I think."

"It's okay. I can listen to anything."

"Okay," I smiled and inhaled before singing out the words. "_Your baby blues, so full of wonder…your curly cues, your contagious smile…and as I watch…you start to grow up…all I can do…is hold you tight. Knowing clouds will rage in…storms will race in…but you will be safe…in my arms. Rains will pour down…waves will crash all around…but you will be safe…in my arms…"_

The words came into my head so easily; it was like I knew this song like the back of my palm in my past life. The lyrics though, reminded me of a lullaby. I started wondering if my mom used to sing it to me…maybe that was why I remembered the words so clearly?

"_Clouds will rage in…storms will race in…but you will be safe…in my arms. Rains will pour down…waves will crash all around…but you will be safe…in my arms…"_ I trailed off, only remembering those parts of the song. The others were a big blur to me but I think one verse and chorus was good enough.

My hand stopped stroking Chuck's hair when I heard slow, steady snoring. I smiled, glad that I had made him fall asleep. He really did look he needed it. "Love ya, Chuck," I whispered. He seemed to smile a little in his sleep.

Looking at Chuck and myself, I wondered if I ever had a brother—maybe I did. Maybe that was why I was good with Chuck.

I let out a shaky breath as my eyes turned towards the thick slabs of grey stone that prisoned us inside the Glade. Almost immediately after I finished Chuck's lullaby, I thought of Minho, Alby and Thomas. Could there be a chance for them? I've only been here a month and this was the first time anyone got stuck in the Maze.

Was yesterday really the last time I would see Minho?

Alby was already stung, what condition could Minho have been in?

I rested my chin on my palm and stared at the closed Doors, already missing Minho's sarcastic self dearly. I knew I was just kidding myself out here, waiting for the doors to open and see Minho, Alby and Thomas safe on the other side. What would happen now? Would Newt take over for Alby? Was Gally going to be second-in-command? All the thoughts swirling hurt my brain, but the thought of Minho being dead was the worst.

After a few minutes, my eyes started to feel heavy. With a last look at the doors, I let myself fall asleep.

* * *

><p>"Andy," a voice called out. "Andrea, wake up."<p>

I felt someone shake me awake gently. I groaned and sat up, yawning. My arms stretched out before resting on my knees. My eyes though, were still eager for sleep.

"Come on," the familiar warm voice chuckled. "The doors are going to open soon."

At the mention of the doors, my eyes snapped open. It closed back just as quickly because of the brightness. I rubbed my eyes and yawned again. I opened my eyes to see Newt crouching down beside me, a smile on his face.

"Morning, love," he spoke, sending warmth through me.

"Newt, hey," I greeted, rubbing my eyes again. I smiled back at him before taking a look around. "Um…where's Chuck?"

"He was at the Homestead just now," Newt answered. "He told me you were here."

I took in a deep breath and exhaled. Only a few Gladers were up and about around the Glade. I smoothened my hair down, running my fingers through them. My eyes fluttered to Newt, who was still smiling at me despite the sorrow in his eyes.

"Why are you here, Andy?" he asked slowly, inspecting me.

"I, um…" I frowned, trying to find an answer. "I don't know. I just wanted to be there when the Doors opened, I guess."

Newt's eyes clouded with sadness. He sighed. "Andy, you know that when those doors open…there might be nothing on the other side?"

"I know," I answered, casting my eyes on the ground. "I've been readying for that," Newt looked at me for a moment and I just realized that I was making everything more depressing. I shook my head before saying, "You hungry? I can go make something to eat."

"No," he said quickly. I think he saw the rejection in my eyes because he quickly sputtered, "N-no, it's not that I don't want to eat! It's just, um, the doors are opening soon…in about ten minutes."

My eyes widened visibly. "Ten minutes?" I repeated. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Awhile, according to Chuck," he answered, cracking a small smile that faded just as quickly. "There he is right now."

I turned around to see the boy running toward us, catching his breath with every step. I smiled sadly, knowing he was just like me—wanting to see what lies on the other side of the doors. As he got nearer, he stopped to catch his breath.

"Hey, guys," he wheezed out. "The other Gladers want to be here too, later."

Newt nodded. Together, we waited by the doors just like we did yesterday—only this time, the situation was different. Newt's hand entwined with mine and he squeezed, just like he did yesterday. I wasn't sure if it was for assurance or comfort but I still squeezed back. Chuck walked and stood beside me, giving me a smile. I smiled back, trying to assure him that everything will be fine.

After a few minutes, an amount of Gladers started to crowd around the doors. The whispers and talks of finding bodies annoyed me. They were so sure that Minho, Alby and Thomas were dead. Not an ounce of hope could be sparked in them, which had me worried. If they had been here longer than I have, then they must know more than me. This had happen a few times before—according to Alby—and no Glader survived out there. By sunrise, it was either bones or clothes that were left.

The Runners gathered behind us—all equipment set and packed in their small backpacks—ready to go out into the Maze to find their Keeper.

A loud, grating noise sounded through the glade, startling us. The metallic clamor started as the walls slowly parted, seeming to take its sweet time while we were on edge, hearts racing at what we could find when it opened. I peeked through the small opening impatiently but still wasn't able to see what was on the other side. My hands squeezed Newt's harder as I bit my lips, hoping for some miracle.

I instantly wished for that—a miracle—in the form of Minho, if possible.

As the walls opened wider, the Gladers pushed and shoved each other to get a better look. The doors finally clicked in their places, the horrible grinding sound of metal ceasing.

My shoulders slumped as I felt all the oxygen leave my lungs.

No one was there.

* * *

><p>I never thought an empty passageway of a Maze could ever come off so harrowing. The grey cement floor and ivy covered walls beyond the Doors were vacant. No blood, clothes or <em>bodies<em>—which I was thankful for because I don't think I could bear seeing it—were present. Unfortunately, in that instant, I knew there was no hope for them being alive.

_Minho had a_ _watch_—he _knew_ what time the doors opened. He knew that we would be waiting and he would have been here first thing in the morning, ready to jump into our care and safety.

Nothing was outside the Doors.

Tears gathered in my eyes, thinking of the bodies or remains that the Runners would find when they got back from doing their duty. The silence only lasted for a moment before the Gladers started sighing and cursing and went back to performing their daily routine. I was angered at the uncaring way they handled it but then I remembered—they were expecting this. They had been here for 3 years and had known what would happen to anyone who stayed a night in the Maze.

Newt's head bowed in dejection. "It's no use," he muttered. Taking a shaky breath, he slipped his hands out of mine and joined the Gladers in going back to their daily jobs. "They're not coming back."

I was still in shock, frozen in place. I couldn't believe that Minho was dead. Alby and Thomas were too. I let out a low, painful cry, hunching and covering my mouth to muffle my sobs. It was final—Minho was dead. _Dead_.

Chuck's defeated sigh alerted me and I turned to look at him. I crouched in front of him, squeezing his shoulders comfortingly. "They…they…" he trailed off in disbelief, watching me sadly.

"I know, Chuck," I croaked out, the sound of my heartbroken voice making me cringe. "I know."

"They're alive," he suddenly breathed out.

My face twisted in pain at his denial. "No, Chuck. They're de-"

"No, look!" he suddenly exclaimed in excitement. He pointed to something behind me. "They're alive!"

Like lightning, I got up and turned my head. It was like an indescribable feeling of every positive emotion rushed through me—everything else blurred out except the two figures limping towards our direction.

Minho and Thomas.

They were alive.

* * *

><p>The disbelief, relief, joy, anger, sadness and everything I felt for the past few hours escaped in one exhale as I blinked at the two figures. I didn't even manage to register it in my head before I sprinted to Minho, jumping into his arms and wrapping my arms around his neck. He steadied himself at the force colliding him but hugged me back tightly. It took me a few moments to actually believe that he was alive.<p>

"Hey, _babe_," he puffed out, "I see your excited to see me."

My laughter rang out as I squeezed him harder as if, if I let go of him, he would disappear into thin air. His voice sent warmth into my body. I was barely able to recognize my own voice muttering the words over and over like a mantra: "You're alive."

It felt like an eternity I spent hugging Minho. A euphoric sense of relief and elation washed through me as it hit me again that he really _was _here, in my arms. "Oh my god, you're alive. I can't believe you're alive! You…you're here! Alive! In the flesh!"

"Well, I'm not translucent and floating in mid air, am I?" his sarcastic remark had me laughing in delight.

Even after a night in the Maze, he was still the same old Minho—and I was glad. Happy tears stung my eyes as I breathed him in, feeling extremely giddy and ecstatic. Maybe that was how he and Newt felt when I arrived back in the Box? No way, this was totally different—Minho wasn't dead. No Grievers got to him. He was _alive_ and _breathing_.

"How?" I asked breathily, unwrapping my arms from his neck. "How are you alive?"

Minho shrugged. "Oh, you know, just played a friendly game of cat and mouse with the Grievers. No big deal." My smile widened as I laughed, elated to have him back. "It was all actually because of Thomas," Minho said, nodding to the boy beside him. "The shank was brilliant."

I turned my attention to Thomas, who was looking bashful. "N-no…I-" I cut him off with a hug. He didn't seem to expect that and froze for a moment before hugging me back.

"You're an idiot, but thanks for saving him," I whispered quietly. All the negative things I thought last night about Thomas instantly dissipated and were replaced with happy, grateful thoughts.

Thomas shook his head and I let go of him. "No, it was his idea. Everything-"

"Shut your hole, shuck-face," Minho interjected. "You did this."

I laughed again and grinned widely at Minho. He smiled back at me. I jumped up and squealed like a little girl before slamming into his body again. "I still can't believe it. You're alive…you made it. You freaking made it."

In that moment, hugging Minho suddenly became my favorite thing. Minho chuckled, wrapping his arms around me tighter and muttered, "Believe it, I did."

"Thomas!" Chuck's voice rang out as he ran to the said boy.

Suddenly, footsteps were heard rushing into the Maze—well, there goes the third rule in the Glade. I let go of Minho to look at them. One by one, the Gladers crowded around the two survivors, shouting and welcoming them back. Newt pushed his way to the front of the Gladers and stared at the two boys in disbelief.

"Holy…" his expression changed from shock to anger. "What happened? How in the bloody-"

"We'll tell you later," Thomas interrupted. "Now, we gotta save Alby."

Alby. I forgot all about him. Shame racked my brain as I scolded myself for being too excited. If Alby was dead, it would still mean that the Gladers lost their leader. How could I forget about him?

Newt's face paled. "Alby…? You mean he's alive?"

"I don't know," Thomas answered. "Just…follow me."

Thomas turned around, heading to his right. The rest of the Gladers followed, not questioning anything. Craning his neck, Thomas looked up at the high walls, his eyes searching for something along the thick vines. After awhile, his eyes widened in recognition and he pointed up.

My eyes followed his hand and finally saw what shocked me—Alby. He was hanging in the ivy, body hunched forward and only tied by his arms and legs.

Newt let out a breath, looking completely bewildered. "Is he…alive?"

"He was when I left him up there," Thomas replied, his face scrunched up seriously. "Can you get him down?"

"_You_ left him…?" Newt repeated and shook his head. "We'll get him down. You and Minho get your arses inside; get the Med-jacks to check you over. You look bloody awful. I want to hear the whole story when you're all done and rested up."

Thomas looked ready to refuse but Minho grabbed his arm. "We need sleep. And shucking bandages," Thomas hesitated to budge and Minho sighed in annoyance. "Now."

That was when I actually got a good look at their conditions. Both Minho and Thomas were covered in sweat and dirt, with dark bags under their eyes. Their exhaustion and weariness were visible on their faces. Their skin was covered in scratches and wounds and some parts of their clothing were torn.

Minho gave me a small grin before he dragged Thomas with him, trudging back into the Glade to get checked on.

I frowned, wanting to follow them and make sure they got all the treatment they deserved. Another part of me though, wanted to stay and help Newt with Alby. Torn, I glanced back at Newt. He felt my eyes on him and diverted his attention from Alby to me.

"Go with them," he said, understanding the conflict raging in me. "I'll see you after we're finished with Alby."

I gave him a huge smile, thankful that he could understand me that easily. Giving him a quick peck on the cheek, I jogged to catch up with Minho and Alby after shouting a quick, "Catch you later!"

"Hey, Minho," I yelled. "Wait up!"

"You run so slow," Minho said teasingly. "No wonder you're not a Runner."

"I'm not a Runner because you refused to make me one—_no girls allowed in the Maze_, remember?" I scoffed. "Misogynist."

"Hey-" Minho paused, his eyebrows knitting. "Wait, what does that mean?"

Rolling my eyes, I replied, "Woman-hater."

Minho laughed, shaking his head and trudging back through the walls, into the safety of the Glade. I ran my eyes down their bodies again, scouring for any injuries. When I looked back up, Minho was smiling smugly. I rolled my eyes and said, "Ugh, you guys look like shit. Let's get you both inside."

We made our way into the Maze. The other Gladers' eyes widened at the sight of Minho and Thomas. One by one, they formed a line on each side of Minho and Thomas, eyes closely inspecting them as if they would turn out to suddenly be ghosts. I noticed Thomas looked embarrassed and uneasy at all the attention.

"This is where I leave you," I declared as the Med-jacks went to take them. "I'm gonna go cook some food. You guys want anything in specific later? You must be hungry after spending the night in the Maze."

"I want waffles. With peanut butter," Minho stated aloud. "And some chicken…_a lot_ of chicken."

Thomas looked at my expecting face and shrugged, "I could literally eat a whole whale by now. Anything's fine with me."

The Med-jacks started pulling them into the Homestead and Minho gave me one last smile before he disappeared from my sight. Even when the door closed, I kept the vibrant grin on my face. The happiness and relief I felt didn't waver in the slightest. I sighed delightedly, walking towards the kitchen to cook something up for them.

* * *

><p>While Alby, Minho and Thomas were being tended, I met up with Frypan and received a few 'welcome backs' from the cooks. I helped them prepare lunch, persuading Frypan to make fried chicken since Minho requested that. After that was finished, I whipped up Minho's pancakes with peanut butter and set it aside safely.<p>

I didn't waste my time going back to the Homestead to check up on Minho—and Alby and Thomas, of course. When I stepped into the med-room, I saw that Clint, Jeff, Newt, Gally and some other random Glader were present. The Keepers, Newt, and Jeff were discussing heatedly about something while the other boy was pouring soup into the unconscious girl's mouth.

"Hey, guys," I chirped, grabbing their attention. Their heads turned to me simultaneously and I couldn't help but laugh. "I'm here to see Minho. Can I?"

Clint and Jeff exchanged a look before the Keeper shrugging. "He's actually asleep but you can stay until he wakes up."

"Yeah, I see no problem with that," Jeff added, jerking his head to a drapery covering the corridor to a few other rooms behind him. "He's in room two with the boy greenie. Alby's in the next."

"Thanks," I smiled and made my way over to the entrance behind him.

Before I could walk through though, Newt tapped my shoulder. "I'll go with-"

"We have things to discuss, Newt." Gally's sharp voice pierced the air.

Newt sighed and turned to the Builder. "It's not-"

"It's important," Gally insisted, frowning. "With Alby and the Changing, you're gonna have to cover him."

I saw Newt roll his eyes and run a hand through his hair in frustration. "Fine. We'll discuss after this. Just give me a bloody minute."

Gally exhaled but walked out of the med-room begrudgingly. Clint followed him as Jeff went to help the other new med-jack. Newt then heaved a sigh of annoyance, and snorted. "Gally's suspicious up about Tommy. The shank thinks he's here to destroy us."

"Don't worry about it. Just listen and tell him he's crazy," I replied. I suddenly remembered what Gally said about having seeing Thomas before, at Thomas's arrival. "Or maybe he's right, I don't know. We'll have to see…but how's Alby?"

"Alby's fine," Newt said grimly. "He got the serum on time. Besides going through the Changing, he'll live, I suppose."

I smiled sadly, squeezing Newt's hand for encouragement. I knew how close he was to Alby. "It'll be fine. After he wakes up, it'll all go back to normal," I said, but then frowned mentally because it sounded too good to be true. "You're covering for him, now?"

"Unfortunately," he exhaled, scratching his head. "Well, I've got to go meet up with Gally now. You'll be alright alone here?"

"It's just Minho," I answered, smiling. "Nothing to worry 'bout."

Giving Newt a quick kiss on his lips, I turned to walk through the door. His hand stopped me though, and turned me around by my shoulder. I felt his lips on mine all of a sudden, warm and moistened ever so lightly. I smiled against him and kissed him back as I felt his fingers thread into mine. He slowly pushed me back against the wall, moving his lips against mine in surprising urgency. I was slightly confused, but didn't really mind it. I loved kissing Newt, and the boy himself too.

_Wait—what?_

A loud clear of a throat made Newt and I pull apart breathlessly. I snapped my head to my right to see Jeff leaning against a wall, smirking. "_Oh, kiss me, Newt. Kiss me_!" he squealed in a high-pitched voice, imitating me. He puckered his lips and made smooching noises before bursting into snickers.

"Really, guys? In the med-room?" the other boy next to him asked, an annoyed expression on his face.

I lowered my head in embarrassment, trying to hide my blush. Newt only chuckled lightly, placing another chaste kiss on my head. I looked up at him, trying to hide my smile. "What was that for?"

"Nothing," he answered instantly. I swear I saw his eyes darting to the drapes where the injured resided, but they were back on me just as quick. "Just haven't kissed you in a while."

Patting his cheek, I said, "Well, I wasn't complaining."

Newt smiled and looked at the door of the Homestead. "Well, I've got to go see Gally now. God knows how long the bloody shank will lecture me about Tommy," he exhaled. "I'll come by right after that."

"Okay," I nodded, grinning. "Go do your boss duties."

Walking over to the door, Newt gave me a wave before he stepped out into the brightness of the outdoors. I sighed happily and noticed Jeff still smirking. Frowning, I asked, "What?"

"You guys are so whipped," he said simply. "Whipped like whip cream, I tell ya."

"Yeah, right," I replied, rolling my eyes in amusement. Pushing the curtains out of my way, I entered the long corridor with a few rooms on each side. "Whatever you say, Jeffrey."

A groan was heard before, "It's _Jeff_!"

* * *

><p>I sat by Minho's bedside, my head propped up on my palm as I stared at the sleeping Runner. On the bed a few feet away was Thomas, who was also out cold. Minho's eyelids were shut, his chest lifting and falling rhythmically. My thumb kept tapping and caressing Minho's arm softly, still needing that physical proof that he was alive.<p>

My smile had been permanently glued to my lips since I entered the room. Seeing Minho resting peacefully couldn't have been a better sight. Even after a night in the Maze, he still managed to appear perfectly tranquil in his sleep, as if he had already beat the world and had no other problems. If it was possible, he looked so much younger when he's asleep—like an ordinary teenager without the burden of surviving the Maze. It was cute, actually.

Minho didn't snore, surprisingly. I thought that among the Gladers, he would be the type to snore loudly in his sleep—but he didn't. Most of the Gladers snored—as I heard during my first few days here while sleeping in Newt's room. Every night if I wanted to go to the bathroom, I'd be attacked with many snores and sleep talk from the Gladers downstairs.

_Why in the world are you thinking about _snores_? _A voice in my head asked incredulously. I rolled my eyes, pushing it away and locking the voice behind a soundproof door. All of my thoughts immediately went back to Minho. I was still so relieved that he was safe, and it was big news. He got through a night in _the Maze_ with his _life _intact!

"Hey," I heard a raspy voice snap me out of my daze. I looked down to see Minho awake, eyes half-open and smiling sleepily. A smile spread on my lips in return and I sat up properly.

"Hi," I whispered in response. "You're awake."

"You're perceptive," he breathed out, a lazy grin on his face. He blinked, adjusting his eyesight to the surroundings. Focusing his eyes back on me, he asked, "Do you always point out the obvious?"

"Oh, shut up," I retorted, playfully hitting his arm.

Minho fake pouted and winced. "Hey, you can't do that. I'm injured, remember?"

"Psh, _injured_, yeah," I scoffed. "You only have little scratches here and there."

To make my point clearer, I poked one tiny scar on his arm. Minho twitched and let out a small yelp. "Ow! That actually hurt," he said, frowning at me. I laughed despite his pain. "You little masochist."

I smiled at Minho's and rested my forehead on his arm, stroking the scar I poked gently. I took a deep breath, embracing the fact that he just came back from the Maze—a whole night in the Maze. Snapping my head back up to him, I saw that he was gazing at me with a slight frown. I raised my eyebrows in question, "What?"

Minho's hand abruptly reached out to cup my cheek and although I was slightly surprised, I didn't let it show. "Your eyes are…red," he mumbled, lightly patting his thumb under my eye. "Why?"

I felt a frown appear on my face as I recalled the image of Minho running to the Doors yesterday. I bit my lips and blinked, making sure no rebellious tear leaked out. "You were trapped in the Maze," I grimaced. Clearing my throat, I whispered, "I was scared…I thought you were gone."

"I'm not," he answered firmly, just after my voice failed and cracked. "I'm right here."

"I know," I swallowed and smiled softly. I pulled his hand off my cheek and gave it a tight squeeze. Taking a deep breath, I repeated, "I know."

A silent moment passed before Minho's lips suddenly quirked upwards. "Did you _cry_ when I was gone?"

"That's a stupid question," I sniffed, rolling my eyes. "'Course I did."

Minho's teasing grin fell flat at my answer. He frowned, licking his dry lips and sighing. "Well, I'm back," he said, shooting me a small smile. Squeezing my hand back, he added, "Least now you know how I felt when you went down the Box."

"This is totally different," I retaliated furiously, shaking my head. "The Box just took me down but _you_, you got trapped in the Maze overnight! All the stories about no one surviving the Maze…a-and Ben got stung in daylight, Min! You were in there at _night_ with an _unconscious_ Alby and a greenie you had to look out for. Who _knows_ how many Grievers lurk that place at night?" I shouted and quickly continued, not letting Minho interject. "And you told me the Maze changes—basically giant slabs of concrete just swinging and veering here and there! And those bones in the graveyard, they're mostly Runners! Those names crossed off the walls…you were almost one of them! Don't you get it? _No one_ has ever survived a night out there; everyone considered you dead! I kept preparing myself for the worst—clothes, bones, blood, even torn flesh! I-I thought you-" I choked on my breath, only realizing the streams of water falling down my cheeks during my rant. I looked down to wipe the tears away, slightly embarrassed of my break down in front of him.

A pair of arms suddenly engulfed me in a hug, pulling me against a chest. I sobbed quietly in Minho's arms, relishing in his comfortable warmth and the fact that he was still alive. His hands brushed my hair softly as he rested his head on mine. "Hey. Come on, none of that. I'm here. I'm right here," he whispered soothingly. "I'm still alive…I'm here with you."

"I thought you were _dead_," I cried out in a strangled voice. "You said nothing would happen—I held you to that, Min. I stayed by the doors, I _waited_ for you."

I felt Minho's arms tighten around me as he released a shaky breath. I gripped his shirt, burying my face in his chest. "I'm sorry," he mumbled in my ear.

A low whimper escaped my lips as I shook my head. "I don't want to see your name crossed out, Min—I _can't_ see that. I can't see your name on a tomb at the Deadheads, I can't _not_ see you everyday…I _can't_, Minho."

"You won't have to. That's never gonna happen, okay?" he murmured. "Those shank can only _dream _of crossing my name out. I engraved that awesome engraving myself—if anyone's slashing it, it's me. And that's never happening," he continued firmly, stroking my shoulder. "You're gonna see me everyday. Every. Single. Shucking. Day. Your whole life. Even when you're old and tattered like a pair of running trainers, I'll still be with you."

A choking laugh escaped me at his reference to running trainers. I nodded, trying to control my sobs. Minho pulled back, placing both his hands on each sides of my face. I tried to wipe my tears off but he pushed my hands down. At his intense stare, my eyes hurriedly found my pants to be interesting. Minho sighed and tilted my head back up, frowning. I suddenly felt ashamed at my frank display of vulnerability.

"I'm sorry," I breathed out, closing my eyes.

"It's okay," he replied and started wiping my tears of gently. I opened my eyes to see him smiling reassuringly. "No more crying. It ruins your pretty eyes."

I let out a pathetic attempt at a chuckle. Continuing to sniffle silently. I looked down at my twiddling fingers before saying, "Don't do that again," I tried to sound steady and mad, but my raspy voice slipped. "Never do stupid things like that again, please."

"I won't," he said, removing his hands from my face to hold my hands. He clasped both my hands and brought it to his lips, gently kissing my knuckles. "It's not happening again, I promise."

His breath fanned against my face at our closeness and his lips left a tingling sensation in both my hands and stomach. I found myself smiling at the rather…_intimate_ gesture. My face flushed a little as I nodded. "I'm holding you to that. For real this time."

Minho chuckled and clamped my hands tighter. "Okay."

"Ahem," a throat cleared loudly from behind me. Before I could even snap my head around fully and untangle my fingers from Minho's, I heard a familiar accented voice utter, "'Hullo, shanks. Jolly day, innit?"

I didn't need anything else to recognize who it was—Newt.

* * *

><p>Newt was leaning against the door, arms crossed over his chest and staring at us with piercing eyes. His eyebrows raised in suspicion when my body went rigid as I looked away from Minho to him.<p>

The automatic smile that appeared on my face everytime I saw him appeared like usual, only it looked a bit guilty this time. I didn't know why exactly; it wasn't like Minho and I where doing anything legitimately wrong. Newt stared at my tear-stained face for a moment before smiling back, though it looked faked—maybe even slightly sardonic.

Minho dropped my hands and leaned back on the bed, blinking unintelligently at Newt. "Oh, hey, Newt," he waved lamely. He inspected Newt's icy gaze before saying, "Andy was, uh, crying."

"I see that," he replied, sparing a quick glance at me before going back to Minho. "Seems like you took care of it pretty well."

"I was consoling."

"Course you bloody were," Newt muttered, walking to the end of Minho's bed. With his arms still crossed, he looked over at a sleeping Thomas and back to Minho. "So, I'll just be frank. What happened out there?"

Minho exhaled heavily. "What? No 'how are ya, Minho?' 'You feel fine?' 'Anything hurtin'?' No? So much for being buddies."

The corner of Newt's lips curved as he rolled his eyes. "You look fine enough."

"Yeah, cause all these shuck bandages on my legs are invisible," Minho scoffed, pushing Newt's body with his toes. "No compassion at all…shuck-face."

"You just basically kicked me with your bandaged ankle," Newt responded smartly. "But really though, all jokes aside, what in the bloody world happened out there?"

Minho took a deep breath and exhaled, scratching his head. He seemed troubled, and tilted his head to Thomas's bed. Unfortunately for him, Thomas was still out cold. He sighed defeatedly. He opened his mouth to speak but paused before any words came out, darting his pupils to me. Newt and Minho exchanged a look before turning to me in unison.

At their skeptical gazes, I shook my head. "No way. I'm staying. I wanna hear too."

"Fine," Minho heaved and shrugged his shoulders. "But before anything, I gotta say that no one can ever beat a Griever at playing dead. They're the ultimate champions, 'nough said. Even a twig can lose."

Newt frowned. "So…the Griever wasn't actually dead?"

"Yep, it was never dead," Minho shook his head animatedly. "Alby just nudged it and it sprang back to life like a donkey got kicked in the butt. It went crazy, rollin' here and there, metal pincers flinging 'round, whirring like a robot banshee…then its needle struck Alby. Wait, how's Alby?"

"He got the serum," I answered, not wanting to be left out of the conversation. "He's getting ready for the changing now."

Minho's face darkened, his shoulders sagging slightly. "Well, at least he made it back," he mumbled under his breath. "So then we got trapped in the Maze, blah blah blah, you were there. Then _that_ shuck-faced shuck ran through those doors," he continued, jerking his head to Thomas and grinning. "He's insane that one. Totally batshit crazy. I told him he just booked his death."

"But none of you are dead," I said. "How'd that happen? And how did Alby get up in vines? Did you meet any Grievers?"

"Patience, Andy," he laughed, ruffling my hair. "So then Thomas came up with the idea to tie Alby in the ivy and I thought he was outta his mind—again—but it worked," Minho nodded, looking impressed. "I thought it was stupid, but it worked. He made this pulley thing out of the thicker vines; I don't know how exactly but it fit Alby nice and snug. Then we pulled u-until, uh, until…"

When Minho trailed off hesitantly, Newt and I shared a concerned look. "What? Did a griever come?" Newt asked.

Minho frowned, shaking his head. "Actually, I, um. I ra-" he paused, sighing in slight frustration. "Yeah, okay, a Griever came. We…split up…left Alby there. I ran for hours I think—I'm not sure. Then all of a sudden I saw that shank again diving from a Griever. It gave me an idea so we lured those dumb things to the Cliff. Then we did the dip-and-dive thingy."

"Dip-and-dive thingy?" I asked, confused.

"It's a…how do I explain this? We just stood at the Cliff when the Grievers came and dived to opposite sides at the last minute so they'd fall off. Like when Gally tries to provoke the shanks he fights with and moves out of the way just before they run at him, so they hit nothing and fall? Yeah, _that_."

"You said _Grievers_ as in plural," Newt said, his eyebrows knitted. "How many were there?"

I held my breath as I waited for Minho's answer. His story already made me frown, just by imagining him actually going through it all. His reply literally made my jaw drop.

"…four."

"_Four Grievers_?" I gasped in disbelief. "And you…you guys made it? They all fell?"

"Yup. Just like that…it was shucking crazy," he puffed out a big breath. "Then we came back and got Alby."

"That's it?" Newt asked, his eyes scrunched, giving off the impression that he wanted to hear more.

Minho snorted. "Well, there was that shiny metal shield and the sword of Glory I used to slay the mighty Grievers. And Thomas was my personal royal horse and we were on a mission to save the Sleeping Alby so he gets a true love's kiss from the Grief Serum. Yeah, that sound cool enough?"

Newt rolled his eyes and slapped Minho's twisted ankle, earning a hiss of pain from the Runner. He snickered as I laughed, seeing Minho scowl at the blond boy. My lips thinned when I reflected on Minho's whole story of his night. It sounded so simple and easy but I knew that it wasn't. I wondered if Minho was scared. It was a bizarre thought—Minho being _scared_.

"But it was all that shuck-face's idea though. If it weren't for him, Alby and I'd be dead," Minho grinned. "All thanks to Thomas. I owe that greenie."

Newt flickered his eyes to the said boy and back to Minho, a teasing expression slowly making its way onto his face. "A night out with the shank and what? You're in love?"

I held back a laugh when Minho glared at Newt. It instantly transformed into a smirk though, and he retorted with, "Oh, don't be jealous, Newt. You have Andy, right?"

When I saw the boys exchange unreadable intimidating glances, I wondered if there was a double meaning to Minho's rhetoric question. The tense air hung for only a little while before Newt thumped Minho's bandaged ankle once again. The bedridden boy winced and let out a yelp of suppressed pain.

"Not cool, man. Not cool," Minho said flatly. "Injured person here—have some sympathy!"

Newt sniggered and shrugged. "Well, back to the topic, I was actually here because I wanted to tell you that I called a Gathering. It's supposed to be tonight, but since Tommy over there is still snoozing, we'll have it tomorrow."

"A Gathering? What for?" I asked.

"Thomas running into the Maze, breaking the rules, things going wrong," Newt sighed in annoyance. "It's all Gally really, but we can't just ignore it too."

I frowned, glancing at Thomas who was lying innocently on his bed. "But he didn't do anything wrong," I said. "He saved Minho and Alby. He got them back when it's never happened before."

"Exactly, Andy. It's _never_ happened before. When he came everything turned upside down, and I can't do anything if the Keepers find him dodgy," he explained, running a hand through his hair in obvious frustration at the whole thing. "I don't want to it, really, but they all insisted. Besides, you said the same about Thomas yesterday."

My face flushed in shame at the reminder, and I huffed. "I was mad back then."

"Poor shank. He's supposed to be some sorta hero but now the whole shucking Glade thinks he's a criminal." Minho sighed, looking over at Thomas. "Whatever. I'm a hundred percent behind him. I was out there, I saw everything, they'll surely listen to me."

At Minho's odd display of determination to help Thomas, I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion. Newt chuckled and whispered to me, "Told ya he was in love with Tommy."

"Newt," Minho groaned, trying to kick him. "Seriously?"

"I think it's cute actually," I interjected, smiling widely. "You guys just went through a life or death journey together! It's pretty sweet that you care about him now."

Newt snickered at my comment while Minho turned his disbelieving stare on me. "You too? Now you're turning your back on me?"

"It's alright. It's perfectly normal for anyone to have a boy crush. Even you," I said sweetly. I heard Newt's snicker turn into full out laughter as he avoided Minho's kicking leg. "I'm sure Thomas feels the same way. Last night was special to you both—it was the start of your relationship. You destroyed Grievers and defied all odds _together_."

"Okay, that's it," Minho said, scowling at both of us. "I want you both out. Even you, Andy. I am feeling _betrayed_. Now leave. I have a right to do that—I'm a patient. Go or I'll yell for Clint."

"But if you yell for Clint, Tommy will get the wrong picture," Newt spoke, grinning. "He might get jealous. You never know if he's the possessive type."

"Yeah, like you?" Minho retorted, his eyebrows rising smugly. Newt's brows met in a frown, but I didn't quite catch on. Before I could ask though, Minho waved his hands. "I was serious you know. Go away. I wanna rest without you annoying people."

Newt raised his shoulders nonchalantly. He walked over to me, grabbed my hand and pulled me up. "Okay. If you wanted some alone time with Tommy you could have just said so."

"You are such a shucking slinthead you know, shuck-face?" Minho huffed, narrowing his eyes. I could see that he wasn't actually very angry though. Irritated, maybe, but not angry. "Go! And get, oh—wait! Andy!"

I turned around at his call. "Hm?"

"I'm, uh, hungry but I can't move," he said, smiling sheepishly and nodding to his body. "Can you-"

"_Chuck_ will send you your food," Newt interrupted swiftly, squeezing my hand. He sent Minho a mocking smile. "He's coming to visit later, and he'll be pleased to help bring _Tommy's lover_ his food."

I giggled and quickly added, "And don't worry. Chuck sees Thomas as a brother. He won't steal _your love_ away from you."

Minho groaned in frustration and exasperation. "Guys, I don't love Thomas!"

"Course you don't. You're _in _love with him," Newt gave him one last victorious smirk before walking out the door, tugging my hand along.

I shouted a quick, 'See you, Min!' to Minho, confused at why Newt was pulling me so speedily. A few unnecessary shuffles sounded before I heard Thomas's drowsy voice say, "Minho? I had this weird dream…about a very disturbing conversation."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Next chapter is the Gathering, and get ready for some jealous Newt and confessions. Also, something Andy never saw coming—and no, it's not Minho and Thomas. They aren't getting together no matter how cute they are. I'm actually excited to write the Gathering. It was actually one of my favorite scenes in the book. Unfortunately, it wasn't like it in the movie. Oh and i forgot to say i got past 100 followers. That is amazing, thank you to all of you!**

**I'm hyper right now so random question: ****If you were stuck on an island, which character would you want to have with you?**

**CheckYesJuliet: Don't worry, that was just Andy being mad. I won't be bashing on Thomas in this fic. I like him too, actually. I plan for him, Andrea and Teresa to be close because of their connection to WICKED. **

**sango691: I understand you, so it's not bad! And thanks for the animated review! You're not late. I understand homework. I had them too. They are very time-consuming. Thanks for reviewing and drawing that awesome picture of Andy! :)**

**OnyeezU: Sorry for not making her run in! I actually wanted her to stay to write that scene up there where she breaks down in front of him. Don't worry, I'm really on to planning for both endings since I hate disappointing people. :)**

**differentbutuniq: Such a long review! I love it! I'm glad you don't think she's a Mary Sue, I'm trying to stay away from that. It's great that you're on an emotional roller coaster! I love roller coasters. I'll make sure not to break your heart with Andy and Newt! Thanks again for the awesome review! :D**

**GirlWhosWaiting: You have an account! Yay! You are amazing! I love your CAPITALIZED review. It seems so emotion filled. You brighten **_**my **_**day with your review, my friend! I don't know how it is to be a freshman in college, but I bet it's hard. Must be, right? I know the feeling to procrastinate though; I do it all the time :). Anyway, thanks for the review and for the vote! You make me smile everytime I read your review, so thank you! :D**

**Glowflower: Yes, I was hoping someone saw that! :) I loved the Book and the movie was really different but still good so I thought, why not just mash 'em up? Thanks for your vote and saying that Andy's strong…even though she seemed vulnerable and cried in this.**

**Megan VR: Thanks for reviewing! I actually wanted Andy to stay so she can really miss Minho. Well, when you've worked for WICKED, rules comes naturally. Thanks for the Thomas review; I was hoping someone would talk about him. I love him at times, but his decisions are sorta crazy. And I'd be suspicious of him too. I hope you liked Andy and Minho in this! :)**

**Gladress: I'm really positive with the alternate endings idea. I have plans already, so thanks for giving me that idea! I honestly cannot choose too, because they're both amazing! Like, one day I'll be saying I want it to end with Newt but then the next chapter comes and I'll be saying I want to write her with Minho so I just…damn myself. Anyways, thank you for the review! I made Andy not run cause I wanted to write that Minho/Andy scene above. Thanks for saying I'm you favorite story for TMR. :)**

**Lottielue1: Thanks for the review! We'll see Andy's reaction when Minho often leaves to run with Thomas. I'm not altering Minho and Thomas's relationship at all! I adore all the boys' bromance. Their brotherhood is something impenetrable! I love it too much to change it…well except for Minho and Newt but they'll still be best buddies at the end. :)**

**poukie-scrapbook: Thank you for your review! I agree with you on Thomas. I wasn't really fond of him at first, since he was too curious for his own good and treats everything lightly. He's okay elsewhere though. Thanks for saying Andy made triangles believable! Maybe she is lying to herself…hm…who knows, right? And thanks for saying she's not a Mary sue! :)**

**softball007: Thanks for reviewing! I have always been against that whole best friend taking best friend's guy/girl, so hopefully it won't come to that. I'll keep hoping you don't stop reading to hunt me down…I'm not very good at hiding. Thanks anyway for saying it's your favorite! :)**

**Thanks for reading! :)**


	14. The Gathering & Awkward Situations

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except for Andrea.**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 14: The Gathering and Awkward Situations<span>

I followed Newt out of the Med-room, confused to why he was dragging me away from the room so fast. I didn't even manage to wave Jeff a goodbye or take a look at the comatose girl. As we walked through the doorway of the med-room and entered the Homestead, Newt let my hand drop. He let go—just like that—didn't spare a glance at me and turned to trudge up the crooked stairs.

I blinked, extremely dumbfounded to what just happened. "Newt?" I called out, walking up the stairs.

When I heard his door shut halfway up the stairs, I frowned. He was acting distant, which was odd. I continued my journey and knocked softly on his door. "Newt?" I tried again, only to get no response. I pushed the door open slowly and saw Newt sitting behind his desk, rolling a crumbled piece of paper around. "Hey."

Newt's eyes snapped up to mine for a moment before going back to his paper ball, no smile adorning his face. I bit my lips, nervous at the awkward air. There was only one chair, so I was forced to stay standing in front of him. After a while, I crouched down so that only my head was visible to him, and smiled when his eyes darted to mine.

"Hi," I said again, only for Newt to sigh and go back to poking his paper ball. I exhaled, and asked, "What's wrong?"

Newt gave me a look that read 'really?' and continued nudging his crumpled paper sphere. I huffed and grabbed the ball away from him, throwing it over my shoulder. "Oi," he frowned, his eyes trailing the flying paper ball before it landed on the floor.

"Talk to me," I said. Newt huffed and slumped on the desk, resting his head on his hands so he was eye level with me. "So what's up?"

"Nothing's up."

"Your honesty astounds me."

"Your one to talk," Newt mumbled, but I could hear fairly well.

I sighed, having an idea to what he was talking about. "I think I know what that means," I bit my lips nervously. "Is this about…Minho?"

"Now, what made you think that?" Newt asked sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He leaned back on his chair, not looking at me. "Wasn't like you shanks were purposely trying to show off your affection for each other, right?"

"He just came back from the Maze, Newt. A _night_ in the Maze," I reasoned, sighing. "I was worried all night and now he's back…I'm just excited…about that."

Newt frowned at me and quickly reverted his eyes when I gave him a hesitant smile. He grabbed another piece of paper, crumpled it into a ball and started tossing it from hand to hand. "Yeah. I'm happy that Alby's back too, but you don't see me kissing his hands like I'm courting him."

"Newt, come on," I stood up and crossed my arms in annoyance. "Minho's my best friend—that's it! I'm just thrilled that he's back. He could've died out there! _Die_. Everyone made me believe he was dead, but he's _not_. I'm elated that he's back, is that wrong?"

"It's not wrong," he said sourly and knitted his eyebrows. "What was _wrong_ was how close you were. You were only an inch away from him, did you realize that?"

"I-I don't…know," I stopped as I realized that I _was_ oddly close to Minho at the med-room. Newt was right, and I didn't possess any retorts. I looked at my shoes, trying to not feel guilty. Newt puffed out a satisfied breath, and I frowned at him. He raised his eyebrows mockingly, knowing that I had nothing to deny.

Sighing, I walked over to him and leaned against the table. "I don't like Minho like that, Newt."

"Like what?"

"Like I like you; _you're_ my boyfriend," I said, smiling.

Newt snapped his head to me and narrowed his eyed for a moment before turning back to continue fiddling his new paper ball. I scrunched my eyebrows and called, "Newt?" No response came as he rolled his ball down his arm and caught it, repeating the process over again. "What is this, the silent treatment?"

When Newt didn't answer, and only let out an exaggerated exhale, I blinked in disbelief. "Seriously? You're not gonna talk to me?" I asked. "Newt. Hey," I called, shaking his shoulders. "Come on, speak."

Newt only scowled and moved away from my hand to rest his chin on the table, flicking his incredibly boring paper ball. I found a small grin creep up on my lips as I observed his sulky manner—it was somewhat cute on him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, setting my head on his shoulder.

"You don't have to be jealous over nothing, Newt," I whispered in his ear.

"M'not jealous," was his mumbled reply.

I giggled and placed a quick kiss on his jaw. "Course you aren't."

Newt tensed up as I trailed soft kisses down his neck, and I smiled. I tilted my head to look at his face and caught the tiny curve of his lips. I grinned and pecked his lips, turning his little curve into a huge smile. His eyebrows met as he hesitantly asked, "So you _don't_ like Minho…more than me?"

"_Newt_," I laughed at his suddenly timid expression. "Are you serious? Minho's like…the brother I never had…" I trailed off, thinking of how weird it was to associate Minho as my _brother_. It sounded incredibly strange and wrong. Shaking my head, I continued, "Or maybe I did have one. I don't remember. But you get the idea, right?"

"Right. Brother," he muttered, returning to his scowl.

"Oh, come one, Newt," I groaned, despite my amused smile. "He's my best friend. I don't like Minho like that. I love _you_. Not him."

I felt Newt freeze after I finished my sentence, and drop his paper ball to the floor. I raised an eyebrow when Newt turned to me, his eyes wide in some kind of trance. "What did you say?"

"What?" I blinked, uncomprehending. Suddenly, like a switch being flicked on, I realized what I had just told him. In that moment, I cursed my ability to speak without actually thinking beforehand. I let go of his neck and stood straight, my nerves crawling up my back. "Oh. _Oh_…um. No, I, uh…I-"

_Knock knock_.

"Yo Newt, have you seen Andy? Where is the girl shank?" I heard a voice call. Frypan poked his head through the door and exhaled in relief as his eyes found me. "Oh, there you are, girly. Mind if I borrow her for awhile, Newt?"

Newt, still in his unreadable daze, blinked a few times. "Uh, what?"

"I need to talk to your girlfriend. No worries, she'll be back in one piece," Frypan said before pointing his finger at me. "You. Come on quick."

I nodded and quickly stepped away from Newt, grateful for Frypan's interruption. My head was kept down when I waved Newt a hasty goodbye and walked out the door. Frypan followed behind me as we walked down the stairs. Frypan pulled me out of the Homestead to the kitchen and throughout the whole journey, I kept thinking of what I said to Newt. It sounded so easy and natural coming out of my mouth, and I didn't even think twice about it.

Was it true, though? I wrung my fingers, extremely confused and complaining why I even said it in the first place. Now things were going to turn awkward.

Frypan and I arrived at the kitchen, and he ushered me in before locking the door. None of the other cooks were present so I curiously asked, "Why am I here?"

"You know about the Gathering tomorrow, right? I assumed Newt already told you?" he asked, receiving a nod from me. "Yeah, so I wanna ask you. Are you voting _against_ Thomas or _for_ Thomas?"

His question left me puzzled. I haven't really thought about it, but I didn't want Thomas to be punished for doing something good—even if it was reckless. Besides, he brought Minho back. "_For_, I guess," I answered, shrugging. "Why does he have to be punished when he saved Minho and Alby?"

"Ya sure that you're with Thomas—a hundred and ten percent sure? No thoughts about opposin' him in any way?"

"I don't think so," I replied uncertainly, narrowing my eyes. "Why? Where are you going with this? I'm not really a big fan of gossip, just so you know."

Frypan shook his head and crossed his arms. "It's not that. I need your confirmed answer first. You're fully supporting Thomas? No objections whatsoever?"

Curiosity got the better of me, so I huffed and nodded. "Yes, I am supporting Thomas."

"Good," Frypan nodded, smiling satisfactorily. "I want ya to take my place at the Gathering."

It took me a minute to fully comprehend what he just said. He said he wanted me to take his place at the Gathering—I understood that part…wait did I? "What?" I asked dumbly, raising my eyebrows.

"You, my fellow trustworthy cook, are gonna take my place tomorrow at the Gathering," Frypan explained, grinning. I was convinced that my face was showing off my bewilderment—maybe my jaw even dropped slightly. Frypan rolled his eyes and said, "Oh, don't look so surprised."

"But no, I…I can't do that," I responded, frowning. "Only Keepers-"

"Clint did it once. Said he had a shucking headache so he let Jeff replace him," Frypan cut me off, smiling as if he had every counter planned out against me. "I think Gally and Bill did it a few times too. Keepers can do that if they have a firm reason."

Letting out a disbelieving laugh, I shook my head. "No way. Are you even…do you even _hear_ what you're saying, Fry?"

"I'm not deaf. I've been having the thought since those three lucky shanks came back alive," said Frypan. "I want _you _to replace me at the Gathering tomorrow. You're gonna be the Head cook for the morning and you're gonna give 'em a long lecture about why Thomas isn't bad."

My head spun as I processed Frypan's demand. He wanted me—a one-month-old Glader—to actually take his place at the Gathering for Thomas's trial. It sounded impossible. The first reason was that I've hardly even been in the Glade for two months. The second reason was that I wouldn't know what to say. Only one Gathering had been held since my arrival, and I didn't even know about that. How do Gatherings even work? Did they have a head judge and make-believe lawyers or something? Is it like a tribunal where everyone had to agree on what to do?

"But I don't know anything," I frowned at Frypan. "I've never even _seen_ a Gathering. I'll mess up and embarrass myself. Why me? Why don't _you_ just go?"

"Because I want _you_ to go, and don't worry about knowing things. You just sit down and wait until Newt asks for your opinion on the whole situation. S'not hard." Frypan replied. He sighed when he saw my uncertain look. "Look, I know that Gally has it out for Thomas and maybe even some of the other Keepers. My word won't change anything. They won't listen if it's only me who stands up for Thom-"

"And what makes you think they'll listen to _me_?" I asked incredulously. "They would probably kick me out just for being there!"

"You're different."

"And what does that mean?" I scoffed, folding my hands.

Frypan shrugged and said, "You're a girl."

"So?" I asked, not sighting any logical motivation for me to go.

"_So_ it means that you can _persuade_ them," Frypan announced, giving me a sly smile. He quickly continued when he saw my horrified face. "No—it ain't like that! Good grievers, woman. I meant that you could actually speak with_ logic_. Knock some sense into them! And because you're a girl, they'll automatically assume that you're either right or stupid."

I raised a sarcastic eyebrow. "Wow. That helps."

"_Listen_, Andrea. Among all the boys in there, you'll stand out. They've never had a girl at the Gathering, and it's sorta a general knowledge that girls are better when it comes to talkin' and lecturing and makin' sense. Your opinion will matter the most-"

"_Minho's_ opinion will matter the most. He was in the maze with Thomas."

"Well, yeah. But…he could always use backup," Frypan insisted. "I'm just saying now, Andrea. You will take my place at the Gathering tomorrow, okay?"

I scowled at his stern tone and huffed. "This is crazy. What if I don't want to?"

"Then you're fired. Go find another job."

"Frypan, are you serious?" I groaned, leaning against a wall miserably. "This whole thing sounds insane. Why are you so intent on me going? Just cause I'm a girl won't change anything! I can't do this. I'll just mess up. I wouldn't know what to do or what to say-"

"You'll know what to say," Frypan interjected, grinning. "I have it all sorted out. Just agree on going and we'll start practice right away."

My mouth opened and closed with unspoken words leaking out. I finally exhaled heavily, saying, "You're really bent on this to happen, aren't you?"

"Yup," Frypan nodded. "So what do ya say? You'll go?"

I grumbled and plopped down on a chair. Frowning, I thought about being at the Gathering—with ten other Keepers at most—and being the only girl. I'd probably get thrown out or unaccepted…just because. I didn't really mind what they were going to do to Thomas. It couldn't really be that bad since Minho will be fully supporting the greenie.

Frypan's hopeful expression made me sigh in defeat. "Fine. Fine. I'll go and say some words and probably get kicked out and embarrassed. Sure, that sounds lovely. Count me in."

"Great. Knew I could depend on you," Frypan smiled, but then scrunched his eyebrows. "Wait…so was that a yes or a no?"

* * *

><p>That night after Frypan gave me his brief on the Gathering, I visited Minho to send his food. I instantly retreated to my room afterwards to get ready for the Gathering early in the morning the next day. Only, when I arrived at the Ranch, my room's light was turned on.<p>

When I opened my door, I was greeted by the sight of Newt slumped lazily on my hammock. When he noticed me, he straightened his posture—almost comically fast—and I resisted the urge to laugh. Placing all my papers and pencils on the desk, I walked over to him.

"Hey there, Newt," I said. "What brings you here to my humble abode?"

"You, uh, weren't at dinner. Or anywhere…the whole day," he replied, scratching his head. "Just wanted to see how you were."

I smiled and sat next to him. "Aw, aren't you just a great boyfriend," I teased and leaned against his shoulder. "I'm not sure if you know, but Frypan told me something very surprising and trained me for it the whole day."

"Really? What?"

"He wants me to replace him at the Gathering," I revealed simply, laughing when he turned to me with wide eyes. "Yes, I know. It's totally crazy. I mean, is it even legit to do that?"

Newt found my fingers and threaded his through mine. He rested back against the wall and said, "People have done that a few times. It's not wrong, I think," he said, but then frowned in confusion. "Why does he want you to replace him? Why isn't he going himself?"

"Don't know. Some crap about how I'm a girl and other stuff," I sighed tiredly, kicking my shoes off to rest my feet on the hammock. Hooking my arms around Newt's shoulder, I continued, huffing, "He threatened to fire me though, so I didn't really have a choice."

Newt chuckled. "Wouldn't want to be unemployed now, do we?" he said, turning his head to kiss my cheek playfully.

I smiled, noticing all of his earlier sulkiness gone. I tilted my head to place a kiss on his lips. Before he had the chance to deepen it, I pulled away and giggled. "But seriously, why are you here?"

Newt's eyes widened a little, but quickly returned back to its original size. "What? I can't come see my girlfriend?" he asked, his voice slightly higher. If it weren't for the fact that I spent most of my time with him, I wouldn't have caught it.

"No, I'm just curious," I said, shrugging and narrowing my eyes. "I mean, it's not like you come to my room every night or something."

His face twisted oddly as he knitted his eyebrows. "…was that a hint that I _should_ do that?"

I laughed, placing a quick peck on his lips. "No. Like I said—I'm just curious. What's your mysterious reason for being here?"

"No reason, really," he assured, but I caught him gulping just before that. I raised my eyebrows only for him to say, "It's nothing."

"Aha! So it _was _something," I said slyly. Newt casted his eyes to the floor and hopped off the hammock. I quickly grabbed onto his sleeve and laughed. "Hey, wait. Where are you going? Tell me!"

"It's nothing, really. I just wanted to check up on you," he answered with ease, but still, something in his voice told me that he was lying.

I removed myself off the hammock and stepped in front of him quickly, only for him to stop, standing stiffly in front of me. Was I forgetting something important? With everything that happened today, I couldn't think of anything important he wanted to tell me. Was the girl up and wanted to see me? Was Alby starting his changing? What else don't I know?

"Newt, seriously. I know you want to say something." Noticing his tense posture, I smiled reassuringly and continued, "Just tell me, it's okay. Is it…bad?"

"No!" he replied instantly, shaking his head vigorously. He opened his mouth to say something, but then his eyes squinted and he shut it again. "I just…I, uh…I-I'll see you tomorrow at the Gathering," he said, frowning all of a sudden. Pecking me quickly on the cheek, he swiftly turned and walked out of the door. "Bye."

Only when I turned back to lie on my hammock—still confused as ever—I realized something. I had told Newt I loved him this morning. I still couldn't believe it. Was it normal to feel sheepish and embarrassed after saying that? Sure, it sounded like a petty thing to think of but what struck me was another part.

_He didn't say it back._

* * *

><p>The next day, I found myself sitting in an enormous room somewhere inside the Homestead, surrounded by most of the other Keepers. Some of the others haven't arrived yet—Minho and Thomas—so Newt told us all to wait. I could see Gally looking annoyed and impatient for the Gathering to start.<p>

When Newt greeted me upon my arrival, I didn't exactly greet him back. I didn't respond to his smile and only looked away to sit at the farthest corner, away from everyone else. His confused expression left me feeling a bit smug for some reason.

Yesterday was still bugging me. The whole occurrence sounded very immature and foolish in my head, but I couldn't help it.

_Why didn't he say it back?_

The whole room was constructed as a place fit for a Gathering. There was a large desk at the front of the room where Newt sat, and chairs were arranged in a semicircle in the leftovers of the space. I sat next to Clint, waiting patiently for the event to start and to ignore the stares being sent at me.

After Frypan trained me to get ready for the Gathering and taught me what to say and do, I wasn't as nervous. Unfortunately, everything disappeared from my head as soon as I stepped into the room, and the anxiety settled back in. I received confused looks from the Keepers, and Newt had to tell them that Frypan was sick—I knew no one actually believed it though, since Frypan was perfectly fine yesterday.

When Minho and Thomas came in, Newt ordered Thomas to sit at the front and Minho came over to me. The surprise was visible on his face when he saw me present, and he asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Frypan forced me," I replied. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," he smiled, plopping down on the seat next to me. "My leg's better, everything's better. I'm all rested up."

I nodded before a sly grin crossed my lips. "And what about your…beloved?" I asked, nudging my head in Thomas's direction. Minho narrowed his eyes and and turned away, crossing his arms and grumbling. I laughed and said, "It was an innocent question."

"Well if you _have_ to know, he's also fine," he answered inexpressively.

"That's good. You must be really relieved."

"I'll be relieved when you shut your hole," he said. I chuckled and punched his shoulder playfully. "When are you gonna stop? I am _not_ in love with Thomas."

"Now, what in the world gave you that idea?" I replied cheekily.

"If you're done chit chatting back there, we could perhaps get started," Newt's sharp voice called from out from his seat.

I turned my attention towards him, only then realizing that the whole room was looking at Minho and I. Apparently, our voices were louder than we thought. The disapproving glances being sent towards me were smothering, and I looked down in shame. _How appropriate, Andy. First Gathering and you pull this off? _A voice in my mind chided. _I blame it solely on Frypan._

"Sorry," I mumbled, trying not to let my face heat up at all the stares.

Minho snorted, leaning back against his seat. "Just harmless talk, Newt. We can get on with it." Silently, he muttered, "Jealous shank."

I pretended not to hear what Minho said and averted my attention to Newt. He took a look around the room, and then rolled his eyes, seemingly annoyed by formality. "In the place of our leader, sick in bed, I declare this Gathering begun." Newt pointed to Thomas by the corner of the room. "As you all know, the last few days have been bloody crazy, and quite a bit seems centered on our Greenbean, Tommy, seated before us."

"He's not the greenbean anymore," Gally piped up. "He's just a rule breaker now."

"Gally," Newt warned, narrowing his eyes. "Try to keep some buggin' order here. If you're gonna blabber your shuck mouth every time I say something, you can bloody leave, because I'm not in a very cheerful mood."

Gally folded his arms and leaned back on his chair, a forced scowl on his face.

Newt gave Gally a hard stare before continuing. "Reason we're here is because almost every lovin' kid in the Glade has come up to me boohooing about Thomas or beggin' to take his bloody hand in marriage. We need to decide what to do with him."

I grinned and turned to Minho. "That seems bad. Your lover's famous with the boys now. Gotta keep your eye on him."

"Hardy har har. You're so funny. The Grievers are laughing right now," Minho replied flatly. I giggled and turned my attention back to the Gathering.

Newt had 'Zart the Fart' go up first. Zart—the quiet big guy who watched over the Gardens—shifted in his seat. He started his endorsement about Thomas, earning a relief sighed from the boy. Gally made it his job once again to intervene, but Newt put him in his place. I could see him losing his patience with Gally's interruptions as the Gathering went on. Another boy gave a similar thought to Zart's.

Then it was time for Bill.

The leader of the Baggers smiled—which was a huge difference from when I met him—and sat up straight. "Shank's got more guts than all of my Baggers. This is stupid—he saves Alby's life, kills a couple Grievers, and were sitting here yappin' about what to do with him."

I tried to keep my surprise from appearing too visible. Bill's personality here was a drastic change from when I first met him. Instead of appearing unfriendly and nonchalant, he was actually looking determined to stand up for Thomas.

_What'd I tell ya, Frypan? I won't even be needed here_, I mused, smiling as Bill continued his talk.

"He went barging out there like a bullet train just to help those two shanks, knowing that he could possibly die. I'll admit at first I thought he was just darn stupid, but then they all managed to _come back_," he said, giving Gally a dirty look from the corner of his eyes. "And I don't know 'bout y'all but I agree with Zart. He's changed things—and it's not exactly bad. Now we know that we can survive out there."

I felt the urge to clap loudly but held it in and beamed, not wanting to ruin more of my image in the Gathering. Newt simply wrote down something on his notepad before nodding. He signaled the next person to talk. On and on it went with Keepers agreeing with Bill and some opposing. Most of them voted for Thomas's justice until they arrived to Winston.

The Keeper of the Slicers scratched his head, but remained composed. "I think he should be punished. No offense, Greenie, but Newt, you're the one always harping about order. If we don't punish him, we'll set a bad example. He _did _break our number one rule."

Remembering what Frypan taught me yesterday, I took out a pencil he lent me and wrote my contradictions against Winston's reasoning; I felt like I was in a debate club or something, taking notes on the opposers' argument.

Gally gave a loud clap as Winston sat back down, and I frowned. Why was Gally suddenly such a contemptibly obnoxious person? I would never know. He hated Thomas for some reason.

"Andrea," I heard my name being called. "It's your turn."

My eyes snapped to Newt as he gave me an expectant look. He smiled again—dare I say, hopefully—but I quickly looked away to the rest of the room. His face fell for a moment before it turned back all business-like.

I felt my heart race fast as the others in the room waited for me to verbalize my recommendation. The anxiety rushed back once more as I stood up hesitantly. Sweat threatened to form on my forehead, but I wiped them away and smiled nervously. "Right. Okay. I, uh, I have Frypan's suggestion-"

"_You're_ here, not Frypan," Newt interjected. "We want to hear _your_ thoughts, not his."

"Oh, sure. Th-that's fine," I answered, smiling a bit too forcedly. I kept the paper Frypan gave me in my pocket and cleared my throat uncomfortably. "Okay. So, I'm with Bill on this. Why punish the boy when he saved Alby and Minho? He's done nothing quite wrong or harmful."

"Didn't you hear?" Gally asked suddenly, his face unimpressed. "He broke the rules. That not obvious enough?"

I frowned nastily at Gally. His attitude and the way he leaned back on his chair—with his arms crossed like he owned the place—irked me. Maybe it was just me, but still, I was annoyed. "And the result was the lives of Alby and Minho. He already spent a night in there running for his life. Isn't that enough?"

"We abided by that rule for _three years_, Andrea. He _broke _it. Not even a week here and he broke our number one rule," Gally said fierily, as if Thomas performed an extremely atrocious wicked deed. "We can't that slide."

"Yeah, sure. Remember yesterday morning, Gally? When everyone just zoomed past those doors and into the Maze?" I raised my eyebrows, feeling slightly confident. "Almost half of the Gladers ran in there when they saw Thomas and Minho alive. Then they went _further _into the Maze to help Alby. Frypan was there, Bill was there, heck, even _you_ were there, Winston," I said to the Slicer, throwing my hands in the air in frustration. "If breaking the rules to help is a bad thing, then all of us who ran in there should be punished. Not just Thomas."

Gally's eyes hardened. "That's different-"

"They ran in to _help_, Gally. Same reason Thomas did," I clarified fiercely. "Only we were too much of cowards to run in when _he_ did because we believed that a night in there is automatic death. If anything, he was courageous. He speeded in there to help two boys he had only known for less than a week. He risked his life to save those two when _we_ didn't."

The room fell silent, and I almost wanted to turn and run from the embarrassment. I didn't realize that I had trailed off into a full out rant. I wrung my fingers nervously and shrugged, trying to appear casual. "And now they're back. Both Minho and Alby are here in the Glade after surviving a night in the Maze. All thanks to Thomas," I jerked my head towards the said boy and smiled broadly.

"Oh come on," Gally rolled his eyes. "You really believed _he _helped them? No one saw him tie those vines. It could've been Minho for all we know!"

My patience for Gally dissolved as I scowled. "You know what? I'm not gonna even rebut anything you say. It's no use. You have this mega vendetta against Thomas for some reason and it's really crowding your judgment. You're not even here because he did something wrong! You're here just because hate him and this is the advantage you've been waiting to have him suffer."

Silent murmurs broke through the silence. Gally gritted his teeth and retorted, "You think you know everything, don't ya?"

"I know enough, Gally. You had it out against Thomas since he first arrived because you said you_ saw_ him. Well, newsflash, Gally. _You_ saw him. Not us! This suspicions you own is going too far. You don't even have any proof if he's bad! All you have are empty theories and none of them can help," I sneered as he mirrored me. Turning to scrutiny the rest of the room, I breathed in and said, "Just…just remember that without Thomas, Alby and Minho would be _dead_. You all would've lost your leader _and _the Keeper of the Runners. Everything they've worked for the past three years will be nothing. You won't have any explanations, you'll still be scared of the Maze and you'll be left with nothing but more unanswerable questions."

I breathed heavily as I finished my steady say. Just like before, the silent cloud rained over the room. I hastily sat back down, proud that I got it all out, but slightly abashed of my straightforward rant. _Man, how long did I even talk_? I asked myself, flushing under the gazes of the Keepers.

"Okay," Newt nodded, sending me a subtle grin. "That was interesting. Next up, Dave."

Just as the younger boy was about to shout out his belief, I interrupted rudely. "Oh, wait! I'm so sorry," I said to the younger boy. Digging my hand into my pocket, I pulled out the piece of paper Frypan gave me. "Um, if it counts, Frypan has an opinion to say too."

"Alright. Go on then," Newt urged.

I heard Gally's irritated huff but decided to ignore it. Opening the paper, I frowned miserably at his long essay. The top had his suggestion about what to do with Thomas and underneath was his reasoning. Only, his opinion seemed a little too far fetched. The mental image of Frypan and I battled in my head whether I should say it or just forget it.

Frypan's hologram insisted.

"Frypan said…" I trailed off, breathing in deeply before preparing myself for the statement that would cause extreme ruckus in the Gathering. In one quick breath, I said, "Put him on the Council and have him train us on everything he did out there."

Like I expected, the room erupted into rowdy chatter. Some shouted out their agreements, and some accused me of making the statement up. I blushed at the attention I was receiving and looked down at my very interesting shoes. _Frypan, you so owe me for this_, I thought acidly.

"All right, you bloody slintheads! Quiet down!" Newt exclaimed loudly, trying to acquire some order from the raucous result that I blamed entirely on Frypan. "Written it down! Everyone keep their bloody mouth shut—no ideas unacceptable. You know the rules-"

"Are you seriously listening to her?" asked Gally, already frustrated by me. I swerved my head to him, noticing the nasty frown on his face. "This is crazy. She's obviously made things up. First she votes for Thomas and then claims that Frypan actually said_ that_? You're kidding me right?"

I scowled at Gally, not entirely happy with his false accusation. "He _did_. Frypan's supporting Thomas fully."

"Yeah right," Gally shot back. "How do we know you're not lying?"

"Ask him!" I retorted childishly, crossing my arms. "I wouldn't even be here and saying this stuff if I had a choice!"

"Please," he said disdainfully. "You're probably part of his shucking fan base now that he saved Minho. You just can't realize that he's bad!"

"Gally, you…ugh. You're such a jerk, y'know? What do you have against Thomas, anyway? He hasn't done a_nything_ to you."

Gally stood up from his seat, his eyes penetrating me sharply. His jaw was clenched as he sneered out, "Quit acting like you're the boss or something, Andrea. You can't ask me that. You don't even deserve being here. I bet you used your lies and deceit to persuade Frypan into letting you come."

"Okay, now what in the world are you talking about?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, not letting my cool structure waver.

"I'm talking about you and your bitchy attitude! You think you can just waltz in here and use any boy to get what you want?" Gally said in a contemptuous tone. "You're just playing them, Andrea. Don't be so stupid for once and admit it."

"Gally, sit down," Newt ordered in a hard voice. "And stop talking until it's your turn."

"Oh, stop trying to be the nice guy, Newt! You know what Thomas did was wrong. You're just defending her because ya finally got her where you wanted!" At Newt's puzzled facial response, Gally chuckled cruelly. "Oh yeah, we all know, Newt. You went to the Ranch the night they got stuck in the Maze, and ya didn't come back. The whole night! You were there, weren't ya—with her? Word came around that someone heard loud noises. It's pretty obvious what you guys were doing, right?"

All through Gally's allegation, I only gaped in surprise, too stunned to think of any response. Newt, however, shook his head and scoffed. "You really are dimwitted klunk, aren't ya?"

Unfortunately, Gally only continued his rant, not bothering to listen to Newt. "I mean, one could only _imagine_ what you guys were doing to console yourselves, right? And the night we thought Alby, the greenie and _Minho_ were dead, no less. No doubt she's playing him too. Don't you realize the shucking tramp is just using you?"

"Whoa, whoa. Lemme hear that again, Gally! You called her a _what_?" Minho suddenly demanded loudly from beside me.

My eyes widened visibly at the words escaping Gally's mouth; this Gathering and his suspicion towards Thomas were changing him drastically. I opened my mouth to blast an angry retort but Newt beat me to it. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he hissed, "Don't _ever_ call her that, Gally. And you shut your bloody mouth-"

"To hell with it, both of you! Of course you'd stick up for her, Newt—you're the one banging her!"

Immediately after Gally shouted his last word, the sliding of Newt's chair was heard as he stood up briskly. His jaw flexed noticeably, and I could see that he was silently fuming. His voice was low and threatening when he spoke. I only stood back, feeling incredibly useless.

"Another absurd accusation, and I'll throw you out of this bloody Gathering," Newt spat out, glaring fiercely at the Builder. Gally opened his mouth to object, only for Newt to cut him off coldly. "I'm already at my breaking point, Gally. Once your out, _none_ of your words will matter anymore. You won't have any say in Tommy's trial. So speak out of turn one more time and see what bloody happens."

When he received no answer, Newt asked snidely, "Want to try your luck?"

Gally—knowing that his first aim was to punish Thomas—begrudgingly sat back down, his fists clenched by his sides. "Fine," he forced out, sparing me a hateful glance. "Whatever."

Newt turned to me, his fierce eyes softening with slight concern at my troubled expression. "Anything else to say, Andy?"

I hesitantly looked back down at the paper, observing the rest of Frypan's messy handwriting. There was still a bit more to be said, but I put it down. After hearing Gally's mad rant, I didn't own the power to say anything else. I shook my head and muttered a 'No.'

"Really?"

"Nothing else to say," I assured weakly, crumpling the paper in my balled fist. "Frypan just gave a statement…that's it. I'm finished talking."

Newt stared at me intensely, and from his eyes, I knew that he was aware that I was lying. "Fine then," he finally breathed out. "Next?"

I sat back down, huffing as I glared daggers into the back of Gally's head. I turned over to see Minho frowning as well—but not at Gally. Instead, he was frowning at Newt. I shook my head, trying not to let his outburst bother me. I didn't sleep with Newt—well, maybe I did but it was the innocent type of sleeping.

And I was not a tramp. _Of course I wasn't_. I haven't done anything scandalous, have I? I kept my head down, angrily clearing my head from all the disturbing thoughts.

Two more Keepers went after me, and one voted for Frypan's suggestion and Bill's while the other rooted for Gally. Thomas sat obediently by the corner, his eyes darting around vehemently as each Glader gave their opinions. Judging by the amount of Gladers all for Bill and Frypan's original point, he seemed safe.

What dreaded me was Gally's upcoming turn to talk.

"Gally," Newt called out monotonously, motioning for the Builder to speak.

The boy scoffed. "I think I've made my opinions pretty clear already."

"Good that," Newt said, rolling his eyes as his shoulders fell in relief. "Go on then, Minho."

"No!" Gally yelled, making a few Keepers—including the 'not-a-keeper' me—jump in their seats. "I still wanna say something."

I breathed out in annoyance._ Then just say it. Gosh. No need to yell out like it's a big deal._

Apparently, Newt was having similar thoughts as I was. "Then bloody say it," he replied irritably.

Gally stood up, scanning the entire room icily before settling his eyes on Thomas. The boy greenie shrunk in his seat at Gally's intense gaze. Gally cleared his throat before beginning. "Just think about it. The slinthead comes up in the Box, acting all confused and scared. Few days later, he's in the Maze with the Grievers, running around like he owns the place."

"Oh come on," I mumbled, having a clear thought in my head about what his speech was going to consist of. Honestly, his lucid loath towards Thomas was getting old.

"I think it was all an act. How could he have done what he did out there after just a few days? I ain't buyin' it," Gally said heatedly.

"What're you tryin' to say, Gally?" Newt asked, exhaling heavily. "How bout having a bloody _point_?"

The Keeper of the Builders stared hardly at Thomas before curling his lips hideously. "I think he's a spy from the people who put us here."

Another uproar exploded in the room. I shook my head at Gally's accusation—he seemed filled with unrealistic, crazy allegations to be revealed. Newt calmed everyone down once again, but Gally was far from being done.

"We can't trust this shank," he continued. "Two days after he shows up, a psycho girl comes, spoutin' off that things are gonna change, holding that freaky note. Then the Box went down…_with Andrea in it_," he said, emphasizing the last bits as he raised a provoking eyebrow at Newt. "You remember that, right? Sure ya do. Everyone does. Then she comes back up and goes all psycho too. We find a dead griever. Thomas conveniently finds himself in the Maze for the night, and tries to convince everyone that he's a hero."

His words _were_ making sense, even if I hated to admit it. Yes, Thomas's arrival had resulted in hectic activity, and yes, it was suspicious, but he _saved_ _Minho_. That was all that mattered to me then. It might've sounded quite immature for that reason to be considered in Thomas's trial…but hey, I'm here, aren't I? And all my reasoning earlier justified his actions.

Gally continued with his blabbering and I sighed, leaning my shoulder against Minho.

"Something ain't right, and until we figure it out, I officially recommend that we lock his butt in the slammer—for a month, and then have another review."

More rumblings broke out, and Newt wrote Gally's proposal down, shaking his head all the while. I closed my eyes in muted irritation at the unruly eruptions from the Gladers from time to time. I was definitely not enjoying the Gathering, and hopefully it was the last time I'd ever be to one.

"Finished, captain Gally?" Newt drawled.

"Quit being such a smart aleck, newt," Gally spat, flushing bright red. "I'm dead serious. How can we trust this shank after a week? Stop voting me down before you even _think_ 'bout what I'm saying."

I knew that Gally had thought his speech out thoroughly, judging by his swift review. He had some good points—I'll give him that—but Thomas saved Minho! Nothing else could be said. Minho was alive thanks to Thomas so his suspicious demeanor had basically washed off to reveal an angel in my eyes.

And speak of the devil—Minho's voice was already talking.

"I was out there; I saw what this guy did. He stayed strong while I became a panty-wearin' chicken. No blabbin' on like Gally. I want to say my recommendation and be done with it."

"Good that," Newt said. "Tell us."

With a mischievous glance at Thomas, Minho casually slinked back onto his seat. "I nominate this shank to replace me as Keeper of the Runners."

* * *

><p>Muted silence filled the room, and the world was doubtlessly frozen in that second. Every member of the Council, Thomas and I included, stared wide-eyed at Minho. My thoughts bordered between a '<em>wow, Minho. You're a mad genius,<em>' to _'that's it. The Maze completely left him insane_.' I was pretty sure the rest of the Council thought that too

Gally broke the spell, standing up. "That's ridiculous! He should be kicked off the Council for saying something so stupid!"

To my surprise, a few Keepers seemed to actually agree with Minho's recommendation. I found myself smiling and knowing what Frypan would've done, I clapped—very loudly, might I add. Gally was clamoring to take a vote but I only clapped louder, cupping my hands for a more loud and clear booming outcome. I caught his dirty looked sent towards me, and I only smirked back.

Newt stepped out from the semicircle finally, and started walking to the aisles. He started shouting at people to shut up, and I almost laughed at the scene. _I thought Gatherings were boring. This is fun, _I thought as the Keepers quieted down.

"Shuck it," Newt started. "I've never seen so many shanks acting like teat-suckin' babies. We may not look like it, but around these parts we're adults. Act like it, or we'll disband this bloody Council and start from scratch." He walked from end to end, looking at each of the Keepers in the eye, except for Minho and I. "We clear?"

I had to admit, I was smiling throughout the whole occasion. Something about Newt being all serious and stern—and taking all control—was really attractive. _Can you not think of your boyfriend in this time of crisis?_ The voice in my head sighed. I threw the said voice against a prickly cactus and continued admiring.

The lack of further outbursts made Newt walk back to his chair. "Good that," said Newt. Looking at Minho, he continued, "That's some serious klunk, brother. You need to talk it up to move forward."

Everyone diverted their attention to Minho, and he exhaled in exhaustion. "Okay. It's easy for you shanks to sit 'ere and talk 'bout something you're stupid on. I'm the only Runner in this group, and the only other one here who's ever _been _out in the Maze is Newt. Only we've been seriously running _out there_."

Newt's been out in the Maze? That was new.

Gally interjected. "Not if you count the time I-"

"I don't!" Minho snapped. "And believe me, you or nobody else has the slightest clue what it's like to be out there. The only reason you've been stung is because you broke the same rule you're blaming Thomas for. That's called _hypocrisy_ you shuck-faced piece of-"

"Enough," Newt said, saving Minho's further words. "Defend your proposal and be done with it."

Minho took in a calming breath and looked at me. I raised an eyebrow, urging him to continue. He disregarded Gally and continued. "Anyway, listen to me. I've never seen anything like it. He didn't cry or whine, never panicked or seemed scared. When I…shuck, when I turned my tail and ran…" he trailed off, sending me a small—almost sheepish—smile. "The dude stayed there to help Alby. I gave up, left him for dead, and I was the veteran. He was just a greenbean. He shouldn't have questioned me but he did. Think about the willpower it took to pull Alby up that wall, inch by inch. It's psycho. It's freaking crazy."

"But that wasn't it. Then came the Grievers. When I started the practiced evasive maneuvers, running in patterns and such, Thomas stayed back to continue pulling Alby up and tying the rope. He should've been wettin' his pants, but he took control, defied laws of physics and gravity, just to get Alby up on the wall. He diverted the Grievers, beat one off, found-"

"We get the point," Gally scoffed. "Tommy here is a lucky shank."

Minho rounded on him, his temper flaring. "No, you worthless shuck, you _don't _get it! I've been here three years and I've never seen anything like it! For you to say…" he paused, rubbing his eyes and groaning in frustration. I sympathized his troubled nature and scattered emotions after the traumatizing night.

"You know, Gally," Minho said in a calmer voice. "You're nothing but a sissy who has never, not once, asked to be a Runner or tried for it. You don't have the right to talk about things you don't understand. So shut your mouth."

The Builder stood up, fuming. "Say something like that again and I'll break your neck, right here in front of everybody!"

I let my mouth fall at his threat. Minho only laughed, walked nearer to the boy and shoved Gally in the face. I gasped in shock as Gally crashed to the floor unceremoniously, his chair tipping over and breaking into two. He sprawled across the floor, and then scrambled to stand up. Minho stepped closer and stomped the bottom of his foot on Gally's back.

I had never been a person to ever witness a real, violent action against boys—Gally's spars didn't count—and it was frightening, to say the least. I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to see it again.

"I swear, Gally," Minho said with a sneer. "Don't ever threaten me again. Don't ever speak to me again, ever. If you do, I'll break _your_ shuck neck, _after_ I'm done with your arms and legs."

Standing up, I placed a hand on Minho's shoulder. "That's enough, Min. No more."

Minho only yanked his shoulder away and advanced towards Gally, who mirrored him. Newt and Winston were on their feet grabbing the two boys away from each other. Gally, with a ruddied mask of rage, heaved ragged breaths. He finally backed away, stumbling to the door. His eyes were burning with hatred as they darted around the room.

"Things are different now," he said, spitting on the floor. "You shouldn't have done that, Minho. You should _not _have done that."

Taking in his readied stance to flee, I walked to him. "Gally, don't do this," I half-demanded, half-pleaded. "We can all talk this out, please. Just sit down-"

"You want me to sit down? Huh? That's what ya want?" he shouted, walking forward intimidatingly. When Newt stepped in front of me, Gally stopped and cackled maniacally. "You should be _banished_ for your embarrassing inability to lead the group! It's all about Andrea now, isn't it, Newt? You're shameful, and any of you who stay here is no better. Things are going to change. This, I promise."

I pushed past Newt and sighed. "Gally, seriously? Calm down. You're talking crazy-"

"_You_," he started lowly, his piercing look aimed at me. "I know you work for them too. I understand it all now."

Frowning, I inquired, "What, Gally? What now?" _Hadn't he said enough? What other nonsensical accusations does he have now? _

"The things you said that night you came up…they don't know klunk," he spat out venomously. "No one understands but I do! It all makes sense—You, the greenie, the girl! I understand everything now…and _you_," he glared at Thomas. "The _Greenbean_ who thinks he's friggin' God. Don't forget I've seen you before through the Changing. What these guys decide don't mean jack!"

Just before he left, he had one last thing to say to Thomas. "Whatever you came here for—I swear on my life that I'm gonna stop it. Kill you if I have to."

* * *

><p>The Gathering continued with Thomas speaking up for himself, and a few more suggestions and opinions thrown in by the Keepers. Most were passionately voting for Thomas. I sat back, not taking any part and only wondered about Gally.<p>

"_The things you said that night you came up…they don't know klunk,"_ was what he had said. "_No one understands but I do! It all makes sense—You, the greenie, the girl! I understand everything now…"_

What had he meant? I was curious to know what he understood. Did I say something about his Changing? Did he know who I was prior to the Glade? If I had any chance of knowing who I was, it was gone now. Gally had made it clear that he wouldn't want anyone of us here near him anymore. I exhaled and leaned back against my chair. The Council was already voting. One by one, the boys chimed in their approval for Newt's earlier recommendation—save for Winston. When it came to me, I only gave a thumbs-up and said that Frypan would vote for Thomas too.

Then the Gathering was over. I breathed out an exaggerated sigh of relief and stood up with liberation.

"I love how you guys are talking about me like I'm not here," Thomas groaned just before Newt dismissed the Gathering.

"Look Tommy, we just elected you as a buggin' Runner. Quit your cryin' and get out of here. Minho has a lot of training to give you."

I smiled and ambled over to Thomas, who probably was the most decent person to talk to right at that moment. "Hey, Thomas. Congrats on the job."

"Yeah. It only just hit me," he breathed out excitedly. "I'm a Runner."

After announcing Thomas's punishment, the Keepers exited the stuffy room. The ones left were only Newt, Thomas, Minho and I. Newt sat back on his chair, jotting notes down. "Well, that was good times," he murmured. I decided to be rude and sit on his table, giving his fatigue-stricken self a smile. He smiled back, putting his pencil down and running a hand through tousled hair. "'Lo there."

"'_Lo there_," I mimicked his accent and chuckled, deciding to just forget my petty thoughts about last night. Taking a sneaking look at his notes, I asked, "Are Gatherings always that fun?"

"Trust me, now that you've been here, normal Gatherings will bore you to death," he answered back.

"It's safe to say I won't ever go to one," I said, blowing my hair out of my face. "Besides, I'm not Gathering material."

Newt smirked at that. "Nah, I'd say you did a pretty good job. You put Gally in his place," he said. He trailed two fingers up my sitting legs, the corner of his lips curving mischievously. "And might I just say, you looked really sexy all feisty and debating against him."

"You think debating is…_sexy_?" I laughed, twining our fingers. "Man, you must be nerdier than I thought." Newt rolled his eyes and smiled lazily. From my peripheral vision, I noticed Minho and Thomas punching each other playfully, and I smiled. "Aww, look at them."

At both of our unashamed stares, Minho and Thomas turned to us. "What?" asked Thomas.

"You guys are so cute," I sighed dreamily. Minho's eyes bulged for a moment before he shook his head at Thomas. "And you get to spend more time together now!"

Minho waved his hand dismissively. "Don't listen to her; she's crazy."

"Oh, he's just being shy. Don't you think he's being shy, Thomas? Cause I totally think he's being shy," I giggled. Thomas's face twisted in confusion when Minho gave me a warning glance. "And he stood up for you so…_passionately_! He freaking beat Gally for you! And it was a beautiful speech, seriously. You guys are like, um, Minmas…no. Thinho-ugh. Ew. No way. Um…Thomi-Thominho! Yeah. That's perfect couples name."

Thomas turned to Minho, baffled, while Newt only snickered. "What is she talking about?"

"I don't know. She's just gone out of her mind, the whacko," muttered Minho.

"Oh, don't hide it, Min. Were all fellas here," I continued slyly. "Have you told Thomas, yet?"

When he noticed my evil grin, Minho's face turned alarmed. He advanced toward me, shaking his head. "Nu uh. No. Don't you dare, Andrea. This is not-"

"Tell me what?" inquired Thomas.

"But he's asking! I can't refuse to tell him _now_," I beamed and quickly yelped to Thomas. "He loves you!"

Minho groaned and placed his face in his palm, shaking it in defeat. Thomas blinked unintelligently. "Uh…what?"

"Minho has a man crush on you after the night in the Maze," I explained, smiling sweetly. "I think it's really sweet. Don't you?"

Minho shook his head at Thomas, silently mumbling 'don't encourage her'. Thomas only shrugged, putting a thoughtful face on. "Well, it's not a bad idea."

Newt, Minho and I gaped at Thomas, who remained completely expressionless. His statement had me smiling brightly once again. Minho stared at Thomas, shocked. The Greenbean's lips then started to form into a grin. Exchanging discreet looks, Minho joined him grinning. They both burst out laughing simultaneously at Newt's expectant expression and me.

"You're some shank, bro," Minho laughed, thumping Thomas's shoulder playfully.

Thomas shrugged. "I try."

"That is _so_ adorable," I gushed, biting my lips to keep myself from smiling to broadly. I knew Minho and Thomas weren't actually together like that, but the thought didn't disturb me at all, actually.

Newt smiled and moved closer to my ear. "I like to think _we're_ adorable."

I cocked an eyebrow and pecked his lips lightly. Even with me sitting on the table, he was taller. "Adorable enough?" I asked playfully.

Before he could answer, a loud knock on the door sounded. Chuck quickly appeared, looking disheveled and panting hardly. I frowned, losing my smile. Newt had the same thought as me and asked, "What's wrong?"

Wringing his hands, Chuck answered. "Med-jacks sent me. Alby's thrashing around and acting crazy, telling 'em he needs to talk to somebody."

Newt got off his chair, as did I from the table, and we made our way to the door. However, Chuck held his hands up. "Um…he doesn't want you guys."

"What do you mean?"

Chuck pointed at Thomas. "He keeps asking for him."

* * *

><p>After Newt and Thomas went off to see Alby, I left for the bathroom. I excused myself and chose to not visit Alby yet. Minho ran off to find some food, but something about him was different. He was slightly tense and didn't talk much to me, but I pushed my paranoid thoughts away.<p>

The Gathering went out of hand. I was pretty certain that I will never willingly go to another Gathering again—even if I was forced to. As I walked across the Glade to the bathroom, I saw Frypan glance at me from the benches at the Deadheads.

_I guess this is where he thanks me_, I thought. He gave me a thumbs-up and smiled widely as he chatted to another Glader. _That's it? No special feast? Damn Frypan._

All the while I kept thinking of Gally and his lingering allegations. How could he think that? What about Thomas has him so riled up that he'd blow up like that—and _two_ times! Sure, things had been a little out of order since Thomas arrived, but he saved Minho and Alby—that had to mean _something_. I kept going back to Gally's jeer of me being a tramp—I wasn't one! I only love Newt, and no other. That's it. _We didn't even do anything that night!_

I huffed in annoyance as I reached my destination. The bathroom was silent, so I assumed that nobody was present. Many of the Gladers were working at this time anyways. I pushed the front door open only to hear shuffling from one of the cubicles. When I heard more than one voice muttering, I gently knocked on the door to face my curiosities.

To say the least, I had the shock of my life.

Two boys, glued in each other's embrace, retreated from the other's lips to stare at me in terror. It took me a moment to come to terms with what was undoubtedly happening. I staggered back, clasping my mouth to avoid a surprised squeal from escaping.

"W-Winston?" I gasped out in shock. My eyes locked onto the person next to him, recognizing him immediately. "Oh my god, Jeff!"

The aim to urinate I once had in mind washed away as I blinked at the scene unfolding in front of me. I never would have thought. _Of course this could happen—three years in the Glade with no girls, dumbo._ The voice in my head seemed thoroughly annoyed.

"Andrea!" Winston gasped out, removing Jeff's hands of him.

I let my eyes trail over their flushed faces, their tousled hair and both of their visible heavy panting. Jeff and Winston immediately smoothened out their clothing awkwardly. After a few uncomfortable moments, I shook my head.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," I said quickly. "This is…so rude of me. I-I'll leave you guys alone."

I turned around and made a swift dash through the door. _What were they thinking? The bathroom? That's insane! _I chastised mentally. _That place was so liable to being barged in!_ After thinking that, I wondered if the other Gladers knew. Judging by the few smirks and snickers I received from the Gladers by the Deadheads, I concluded that they indeed knew.

_Obviously. Why else would they choose such an unprotected place?_ The voice in my head scoffed.

I walked away from the bathroom, ridding the images of Jeff and Winston. Honestly, I didn't see that coming. I never even had a thought that Gladers would be attracted to their own genders. I knew their closeness and brotherhood was strong, but never thought _that _strong.

Well, the incident that took part a few minutes ago definitely proved me wrong. It made me wonder if there could be more.

_Well, wasn't today such an eventful day, _I thought. _Gosh, instead of Minho and Thomas, I find Winston and Jeff. Definitely didn't see any of that coming_.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Finally. I am so sorry. I apologize deeply for my tardiness with this chapter. I am now in the process of moving, so my mom has been pestering me to wake up early, sleep early, pack my things, clean this house, clean the other house, pack more things, chuck out the useless stuff, and more tiring duties. I never knew so many things could fit in my room, seriously. And last week I went to this official family holiday with, like, 200+ relatives from my dad's side. The main rule was no electronics. I was like an anti-social turtle, sitting in my room and reading Lord of The Flies. No music, even! It was bizarre!**

**This wasn't my favorite chapter, honestly. The next chapter might be a little late too, since I'm still moving and chucking things. My new house is pretty far, and my mom refuses to call a moving service! She says that doesn't trust them and wants us to do all the work so we're basically wasting car gas by driving there and back here everyday. So I truly apologize in advance.**

**Gladress: Thank you for the review! I love Newt jealousy too. The something unexpected really wasn't that bad though, I hope. It was just Winston and Jeff. xD. I remembered Winston shouting when he got taken by the Grievers in the movie and thought "hmm. Why not?" But thank you for your review! **_**You **_**stay awesome.**

**Megan VR: Thanks you for your long review! I love playing with my baby brother's hair, so maybe yes? This chapter didn't have much interaction, but I hope it was okay. I love the romance between Thomas and Minho too. Thanks for the review! :D**

**Poukie-scrapbook: Thank you for reviewing! Andy has an idea to what's going on, but chooses to ignore it for now. Future chapters determine otherwise, though. :)**

**bmdrwho12: Thank you for reviewing! Thanks for checking your email every morning! I'm really sorry about the late chapter (and future late chapters possibly). I'm excited too! For more reviews :) Thanks!**

**Crofan: Thanks for reviewing! Your suggestion sounds good, but honestly, I was planning things to play out a little bit differently. The story's just gonna flow like usual and the ending's a surprise. But thanks for your review though! Shows you care. :) But seriously, thank you!**

**Doragon no Namida: Thanks for the review! I'm sorry you didn't like Andrea that much. I'm glad the story grew on you, though! Thanks for loving the relationship developments! :)**

**Thanks for reading! :)**

**PS. I reached 100 Favorites! Thank you so much to everyone! You're all amazing human beings! :D**


	15. A Huge Relief, Or Maybe Not

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Maze Runner.**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 15: A Huge Relief…Or Maybe Not<span>

That night, after meeting up with Frypan and giving him all the 'juicy details' on the Gathering, I retreated to my room.

Minho had run off with Thomas to give him a brief on the Runners; I also think he's avoiding me. I wasn't sure why. After the Gathering, he just left. It couldn't be because of I made fun of him and Thomas could it? Unfortunately, with other problems I kept pondering on—which was really only _one_—I didn't think much of it.

The unsettling nag inside me about Newt _not _saying it back was still storming, but I tried not to think about it. Numerous theories and reasons floated at the top of my mind, and each and every one of them seemed likely…well, after I convinced myself, that is.

Maybe he hadn't heard me? Maybe he forgot? Maybe he was freaked out? Maybe he _wanted_ to say it but never got the time?

Or quite simply, maybe he just didn't…love me. _Ouch_.

I frowned subconsciously as I opened the door to the Ranch. From the narrow slits in the wood, I saw that the light was on in my room. I opened the door and to my surprise, yet again, Newt was there. Just like the night before, he was lying on my hammock.

"I wasn't being serious about you coming every night, y'know," I spoke up, changing my frown into a grin easily.

Newt's head snapped to mine and he jerked up. "Oh, hi. Didn't hear you come in."

"How could you not? This whole place is made of wood. Wood generally emits sounds," I said, raising an eyebrow. When Newt only stared back blankly, I furthered by asking, "Really? You didn't hear me open the door? I walk noisily, you know."

"No. I was just…thinking of something," he replied, smiling softly and sitting up on the hammock.

"You've done quite a lot of that these few days," I laughed, taking a seat next to him. "You're gonna blow your brain if you keep it up."

"I don't mind. I have you to lessen the stress," he chuckled, suddenly sagging down onto my shoulder. His hand automatically tangled with mine and I smiled.

Observing his weary eyes and slumping figure, I said, "You look tired."

"It's cause I am," he answered, sighing. "The Gathering, Gally going missing, Alby, Thomas going barmy…and I have to bloody take care of it all."

"What happened with Alby today?" I asked, already knowing details to the other subjects. Frypan told me that Gally ran into the Maze earlier, and frankly, Frypan seemed happy about it. Thomas ran too; Newt didn't tell us why, but he told us to not disturb him.

Newt frowned. "He went mental. He wanted to talk to Tommy only, apparently," he said, rolling his eyes. "But then he just, well, you remember Ben, right?"

"He attacked Thomas?" I asked quickly, alarmed.

"No!" Newt immediately denied, shaking his head. "Well, actually, he did, but it wasn't like Ben. He just grabbed the shank—tried to strangle him, I think. But then he went back to normal.

"Oh," I said. "That's good, then. No one got hurt."

"Yeah, guess so."

Newt and I started talking about random things in the Glade, and his troubled face seemed to disappear. Something about him being stressed out and overcome with tension was worrying. I wasn't sure why, but I was certain it had some connection to WICKED and my mysterious past. I just didn't know _what_.

A few minutes later, the haunting thought of my impromptu confession from yesterday came back. I kept opening my mouth to say something, but it refused to come out. When he noticed that I suddenly became quiet, he asked what was wrong. Knowing that it was my chance, I hesitantly asked.

"Newt? W-why didn't you…" I trailed off, thinking about my trivial question. At Newt's inquiring face, I decided to fall back and shake my head. "Uh, forget it."

"Just ask. It's okay," he said.

I shook my head again and averted my gaze to my fiddling fingers. "No. It's…it's stupid. Don't worry 'bout it."

"You've got me curious now," he smiled, tilting his head to look at me. "You can ask me. What is it?"

_Why didn't you say it back? _The unappreciated blush returned to my cheeks as I mentally voiced the question I wanted to sounded extremely…lame. Coming out from my mouth, that would probably sound whiny or desperate. I didn't want to come off as one of those girls.

The solution is simple; ignore everything.

Sending Newt a reassuring smile, I shook my head once more. "It's nothing, really."

"So it _is_ something," Newt countered, using my words from last night. "It's fine, Andy. You can ask me anything, you know that."

"I know. And it's _nothing_. I don't have anything to ask," I said, but from the look on Newt's face, I knew it was unconvincing. "Seriously, it's nothing. It's just a silly question. Don't worry about it."

"Andy-"

"No, Newt. Forget it. My brain just went crazy for a sec. It's not important—the total opposite of that, actually. I-It's just really stupid and idiotic and…petty. I don't even know why I thought-"

"I love you."

"-I could ask that. It's so immature and senseless. You'd be laughing for sure. Heck—I'd be laughing if I were you! I can't believe I-wait," I paused in the middle of my rant, rewinding my words speedily for Newt's interjection. "What?"

I snapped my head to my side to face Newt, a stunned expression on my face. Newt smiled widely, seemingly holding back a chuckle. He slowly moved closer, reached out for my hands and breathed in deeply. "I love you," he repeated, his lips in a winsome curve. "There."

It would be a lie if I said that my mind hadn't processed what he said. Like a machine, it remembered and replayed the three words over and over again. What my mind had problems with was believing that it came out of Newt.

Blinking, I opened my mouth again. "What?"

"You just want me to say it again, don't you?" Newt chuckled. "You heard me, Andy. I love you," he uttered again, but when he received no response, his smile wavered. "Um, that _was_ what you were wondering, right? Because if it wasn't then…I just made things awkward."

Finally, my senses connected to my brain and I quickly replied, "No. I-I mean, yes. _Yes_, that was what I was wondering and _no_, you did not make things awkward," I explained rapidly—and also jumpily. "Well, I don't think it's awkward. Is it?"

"I think that term runs on a daily basis with you," was Newt's answer. He laughed when I playfully ticked his fingers.

"Are you…are you serious?" I asked, referring to his reveal.

"Yes, you _are_ occasionally awkward in the Glade. You know, being the only girl and all-ow!" My eyes narrowed as Newt snickered and rubbed his pinched arm.

"Okay, okay. I do. Even if it's only been one month, and only a few weeks, I don't bloody care," he said steadily and I couldn't help but smile. "Before you came, I only had Alby and the other shanks. They're great and all, but they're not you. To say the least, my life's never been better."

I laughed at that, shoving him jokingly. "Newt, come on-"

"I'm serious," he tried saying, despite his verging chuckles. "It sounds so cheesy and, wow—it _does_ sound bloody cheesy now that I said it—but it's true." Tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, Newt kissed my lips lightly. "I was just a bit shocked yesterday when you said it. I wanted to tell you last night but, um, I didn't know how. But I am saying it now, and I'm telling you the truth—I love you."

I beamed when I _did _come to terms with it—Newt loves me. That was…relieving. And amazing. His impromptu speech left me grinning brightly. My heart twisted in some kind of unnatural way, but it felt good. I felt like bursting out with indescribable, immense glee in the form of happy worms. Was that really what it was supposed to feel like?

Thumping his shoulder, I said, "I can't believe you tell me now. You left me worried for a whole day, you know."

"I know. Just want to see you sweat it out a bit," he smirked playfully.

Forgetting rational thoughts, I giggled, jumped up and pressed my lips to Newt's. He caught me—off guard—and fell back onto the hammock, chuckling lightly against my lips. I smiled and leaned in to mold our lips again, releasing all the joy and bliss I felt into the fervent kiss. Taking my sweet time to nibble on his bottom lip, I gently pushed him down further, my hands on his chest.

"Someone's enthusiastic," he teased, his chest rumbling from a warm laugh.

"Course I am," I replied, grinning down at him. "I'm just…happy. I don't know."

He leaned up to trail his lips from my jaw to my neck. "Well, don't stop now," he breathed against my ear, emanating a low chuckle when I stiffened. "I was enjoying that."

I smirked as I got over the effect, pulling my head back to give him a mischievous stare. "Oh, Newt. I don't plan to."

Hooking my other leg around him, I realized that I was basically straddling him. I grinned impishly when his breath hitched and his eyes darkened. Swallowing hardly, he started, "Andy-"

I cut him off by assaulting his lips once more, tasting his coarse, pink flesh delightfully. My fingers danced in his soft hair, as his immediately caressed my arms, my back, then my hips, and then everywhere. His hands left trails of gooseflesh on my skin, and I released shaky breaths every now and then.

When he tensed and I heard a sharp breath intake, I concluded that I had found his special spot. Keeping on sucking the tender skin behind his ear, I reveled in the effect I had on him. I bravely pressed my body onto him, licking his exposed skin teasingly.

"Andy," Newt uttered huskily. I pulled back slowly, taking in his closed eyes, flexed jaw and harsh breathing. "You have to…s-stop?" It sounded more of a hesitant question.

My fingers caressed his temple, and he let his eyes open. I was pretty sure I saw my reflection in them—love, desire, hunger. I pretended to nod and backed away, only to halt in mid-air, leering down deviously at Newt. "I don't think so."

And with that, I latched our lips together again, earning a low groan from my boyfriend. Not even a few minutes later, he flipped us around, having to adjust our position because of the hanging contraption. I giggled as he grumbled about wider hammocks. Newt's lips travelled down my neck hungrily, leaving me breathless and fiddling with the hems of his shirt.

Newt only retracted for a second to help get his shirt off. Sadly for me, he had his orange undershirt on—another garment to get through to see a shirtless Newt. He smirked at my disappointed face before slipping his tongue in my lips again feverishly.

I moaned into him, not denying that I wanted more. An involuntary gasp escaped my lips as he bit down on my neck, sucking a spot that was both stinging and pleasurable. His thumb dragged down the front of my collar, flicking the fabric in expectation.

Before we could further ourselves into any carnal needs though, I heard the door slam open—loudly, too. I hissed in irritation, as did Newt, as we broke apart. _Seriously, does no one know how to knock?_

It wasn't until I heard his voice; I pushed Newt away and sat up straight.

"Andy! I got somethi-" the familiar voice stopped, as I stared at him with wide-eyes. "Oh."

Minho stood frozen by the door, his eyes darting between Newt and I. The burning feeling from Newt faded as I spared a glance at our conditions. With our flushed lips, my hair and Newt's in a mess, his outer shirt lying on the floor and our unsteady pants, nothing helped at all.

For some strange reason, I felt the need to explain to him. "Minho. This isn't-"

"I guess not _all_ of Gally's words were false," he uttered stonily, taking one last look at us, frowning at _me_, and turning towards the door. "Sorry to bother you guys."

I hastily jumped off the hammock to catch up to him. "No, Min! We weren't-" my voice was muted by the slamming of the front door, making me cringe. I sighed and rubbed by forehead. "Dammit."

Looking back at Newt, I bit my lips in guilt. I just hopped away from him to chase a boy that _was not _my boyfriend. _What a great girlfriend you are, Andy_, I chastised myself.

"I'm sorry," I said timidly, taking a seat next to him.

"S'okay." Newt heaved a deep, annoyed, breath and ran his fingers through his hair. "Not your fault we didn't lock the room."

"No, I meant-" I stopped myself.

Newt raised a suspicious eyebrow, leaning back against the wall. "You meant what?" When I didn't answer, Newt sighed and tentatively asked, "You…you like Minho, don't you?"

"What?" I snapped my eyes to him. "N-no. Not like _that. _I told you already."

"Okay then," Newt said and continued after a moment to think. "You have this urge to be around him? Care deeply about him? Assure him that we aren't doing what Gally said we were?"

I opened my mouth to deny but actually pondered the question. "I…I guess."

"Well," he suddenly frowned. "I was actually hoping for a no."

"Oh," I muttered. "Um-"

"It's okay," he interjected, puffing an unimpressed breath. "I understand. You have some sort of…connection, I think, to the shank."

I wasn't sure if what he said was true, but it wasn't entirely wrong either. The whole thing wasn't fair to him at all. "I'm so sorry."

Newt nodded, a pensive expression on his face. I wrung my fingers as the tense silence overcame us, and engulfed us as whole. Why did this have to happen? Why did Minho have to barge in on us at that exact time? I glanced over at Newt and bit my lips nervously.

"But I do mean it though," he spoke after awhile, turning to me. "I love you."

An automated smile spread across my lips. "I do too," I replied swiftly. "Nothing's changing that."

"But?" he prompted.

"But I…I-I don't know," I answered, cringing at my inability to think of something. I just ruined this whole night.

Newt sighed, ruffling his blond hair. "Well. That's that, then."

At Newt's tone and wording, I instantly straightened up and asked in worry, "Um…is this us breaking up or something?"

"Wha-? No!" Newt exclaimed immediately, turning to gape at me in shock. "No, we're not-why do you-how did-where did you even _think_ of that?" he sputtered, wide-eyed.

"I just thought with the whole talk and…you saying 'that's that,' and it all just sound like a…breakup," I explained sheepishly, lowering my head. "So we're not?"

"_No_, you bloody silly girl," he laughed, gripping my hand tighter and turning to smile at me teasingly. "Unless you want to?"

"No," was my instantaneous response.

Newt chuckled and cupped my face, placing a brisk kiss on my lips. "That's good." He checked his pockets for a worn out watched, and said, "Okay, I'll have to go now," he said, standing up and collecting his discarded white outer.

"Already? No," I whined, tugging on his arm childishly. "Stay a little longer."

He chuckled at my antics and replied, "Need to lock Tommy up tomorrow morning, remember?"

"Oh, right." I got off the hammock and followed him to the door, smiling widely. After he pulled on his shirt, he started walking out my door. Before he stepped out, he turned around for a small wave.

"Love you," he said cheekily, grinning.

"I'm so glad I can say that openly now," I laughed, waving back at him. "Love you too."

When his silhouette could no longer be seen, I sighed. Falling back onto the hammock, Minho's surprised expression from a few minutes ago filled my brain.

I wasn't sure why I felt at fault. I wasn't even sure if these compulsions to assure him that nothing was wrong meant anything. Why Minho looked so angry and then turned emotionless? It was also another thing I wasn't sure about. I was sure that I loved Newt…I _was_ sure. And I certainly did.

Now, I wasn't sure about...well—

I wasn't sure about lots of things.

* * *

><p>The next day, Newt met me after locking Thomas up in his cell. Things were less tense. Actually, things weren't tense at all. Newt still held my hand everytime, whispered playful words in my ear, joked around now and then and updated me on everything in the Glade that I might've missed. To say the least, everything was perfect between us.<p>

Of course, minus the fierce pair of eyes that trailed us through the whole morning. After last night, I was lost as to what I could say to him.

Not long after that, Jeff called Newt away because Alby woke up, apparently. Seeing Jeff after the incident in the bathroom, it was hard not to blush and feel uncomfortable. Newt—realizing what had happened—only snickered unhelpfully.

After lunch, I decided to take a walk by the Deadheads. Everyone else was busy, and lucky for me, I was a cook—we only work three separate times a day.

I spoke to soon about luck though.

Unfortunately for me, someone that I both _wanted_ and _didn't want_ to meet was present by the older hidden benches. I wondered why Minho wasn't out running and remembered that he didn't run on Thursdays. Also, he just recently recovered from a night in the Maze. He deserved breaks.

Swallowing my cowardice and the persistent voice warning me that I'd only embarrass myself in front of Minho, I walked over to him. I fiddled with my fingers nervously as I stood behind his still figure that was gazing at everything in his eyeshot.

I took a deep breath, pinched myself so that I wouldn't back down and tapped his shoulder. Minho turned his head, and his eyes narrowed when I appeared in his sight. Then, he turned away to continue staring at the trees in front of him.

"Hi," I said, accompanied with a hesitant smile. "Can I sit?"

"Andrea," he acknowledged, without answering my question and without looking at me. He then added, "Where's Newt?"

I winced at his use of my full name. The tone he used was empty but filled with hints of accusations at the same time. Wringing my hands my hand awkwardly, I shrugged and took a hesitant seat next to him. He spared a quick glance and me before averting his gaze.

"He's with Alby—he just woke up," I answered.

"Wow. That's just _great_," he puffed out sarcastically. "I care so much."

I shrugged and responded with a, "You asked."

Minho only rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Whatever."

Strained silence fell over us following that. Just like a vacuum, it sucked away every sense of comfort that I usually owned when I was around Minho. The uneasiness seemed to feed on my palms, since they itched as the time flew by. I almost regretted listening to myself and sitting by him.

To break the tense silence, I asked, "So when are you going back into the Maze?"

"Eager to get rid of me, are ya?" he shot back.

I blinked in surprise, taken aback by his sharp tone. "N-no! It was just a question…I didn't mean anything else."

Minho exhaled and tapped his fingers on the bench silently. A few minutes passed before he spoke. "Well, _if you must know_, I'm going back tomorrow," he answered and to my displeasure, added, "Then you can have your free time with your boyfriend."

"…right," I finally breathed out. "Okay." I ran out of things to say, and certainly didn't want to speak about yesterday. As a substitute, I offered, "Be careful out there."

Minho only sighed and nodded, continuing his observance on the Glade's forest. He still didn't look at me, and I was reminded of Newt's silent treatment before. Hm. How similar. I wasn't sure—yet again—why Minho refused to say anything about it, since the last time he barged in on Newt and I—the day we got together—he was quite verbal about it.

I knew that I didn't like him not talking to me, though.

After a few minutes of pondering about leaving or just talking it out, I made my decision. Building up my courage to start up the dreadful topic, I asked, "So what's gotten you into such a…_foul_ mood?"

"You're really asking me that?" he scoffed, finally taking a look at me. "You're not an idiot, Andy. I'm pretty sure you know what's going on."

_I wish I didn't_, I uttered mentally. I looked at my hands and chewed on my lips timidly. Would it better to pretend like I really _didn't_ know anything? By the looks of the situation I was in, that didn't sound like the wisest idea. "I guess so."

"You _guess_ so?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I know," I replied firmly, proving to him that I indeed knew what was going on. I didn't like it, and was hoping to stay away from any awkward outcomes, but there wasn't really a way out of it. "I…_do_ know."

Minho raised an expectant eyebrow, clearly waiting for me to speak up. Licking my dry lips, I squinted my eyes and tried to suggest my first reasoning. "You don't like Newt and I together?"

"Hmm…that is true. But there's more to that."

I nodded and started to think of what I should say next. The little, annoying voice in my head kept repeating it's only 'right' theory, but I pushed it away. "You…don't like to see us…physical?" I tried.

"Come on, Andy," he said in exasperation. "That's really the best you can think of?"

_You know the exact reason, Andy. Say it_, the voice in my head shouted. I mentally shook my head. _No way. That's not the reason at all_.

"You're secretly not comfortable with PDA?" I suggested.

Minho let out his first chuckle for the day, even hiding a small smirk. "Oh, I don't mind PDA, actually," he replied. Sending me a cryptic glance, he continued, "_Wouldn't_ mind it either. I just don't have the girl I'm thinking about…yet."

_Like _that _wasn't a confirmation, t_he never-ending voice chimed in my mind. _Stop pretending you don't know that he _likes_ you! Likes you like Newt does-_

"Okay," I said to block the voice from making any more noise, and as a reply to Minho's obscure sentence. Looking at my knees out of bashfulness, I smiled. "Well, there's the unconscious girl."

"Psh. No. I have my eyes set on another," he said, his eyes darting to me. For some reason, I figured out the meaning behind that and felt my face heat up. "You have anymore theories?"

"I do," I answered swiftly, grinning. "I spent the whole night thinking."

"Well, carry on then," he chuckled.

Seeing Minho's smile made me smile. It took me a few moments before I could think of the next one, but I didn't have the guts to say it out loud. _Just say it! You know the reason, goddam! _The voice yelled in my head, much to my dislike.

Instead, I came up with: "You're looking out for me?" When Minho groaned in frustration, I quickly spewed out words. "I know that I'm your best friend and you're just trying to make sure my I don't get hurt and that's why you don't like Newt and I so close-"

"You _don't_ get it do you? Haven't I been obvious enough?" Minho inquired, turning to face me. Any words that I planned to say disappeared as he trapped me in an intense stare. "I like you, Andy, and not just in a '_friendly' _way. I like you like…like how a guy should like a girl in the real world. Y-you know how it goes. I _like_ you. A lot."

_No. No. No. Why would he say that? That wasn't supposed to happen!_ I yelped in my head. As a retort, the voice muttered, _I told you so._

"No, you don't," I quickly objected.

"Are you in my brain right now?"

I let out a gasp of disbelief, shaking my head. "No way. You can't-this can't-it's not meant…_why_?" I finally asked incredulously, throwing my hands up in the air. "I-I know that I'm the only girl here but-"

"It's not because you're the only girl here," he cut me off, rolling his eyes. "There's also the coma chick but you don't see me all over her."

"That's different. She's in a coma," I pointed out. "Just wait until she's awake. You never know-"

"I won't _want_ to know, Andy. I don't care about her. I care about _you_."

Squeezing my eyes shut, I pushed away any unwanted feelings and frowned hopelessly. "But you _can't_." Truthfully, he can, but I couldn't let it happen.

One, I was with Newt. And two, I didn't harbor any feelings of the sort towards him—and I'm not lying—at least, I don't think so.

Minho ignored me. "You asked why, right?"

I instantly shook my head and stuttered, "N-no…No, I didn't. Please don't say-"

"I like you because you just brighten things up," he said, unfazed by my protest. "You're always smiling and looking out for everyone, and-and…shuck, I'm really not good at this."

I briskly interrupted, "Then stop."

Minho refused, shaking his head. His knee started bouncing fretfully when he continued, "You, uh, you're _beautiful_, Andy—both inside and out."

Any interjections or demands for him to shut up died down. My head snapped up to meet his dark eyes, and—though it happened without my consent—I blushed. Minho smiled a little before continuing.

"I lost count of how many times you cooked for me or Chuck or any other Glader after a harsh day at work. You stand up for what you believe in and you speak your mind freely, and I like that. You're caring, funny, determined, just plain amazing…_man_, I don't know what else to say to make you _not_ sound like an ordinary, fictional girl in the world," he said, frowning. After a few moments, he added, "I like you because you're _you_ and words can't even describe it…as cliché as that may sound."

I cracked a small smile as he finished. When his words finally made their way into my brain, I let the smile drop. As touching as the speech was, I couldn't say anything back. Minho had been my best friend since we met, and I've never felt anything for him besides that. Why _now_? I only then realize that my heart had started racing just when he started.

Finally, I blurted out. "Why can't you just _not_ like me?"

"Why can't you just _like_ me?" he retorted boldly.

"I…I'm with Newt," I answered slowly, liking my suddenly dry lips. "And I-I love Newt."

I didn't look straight at his face when I said it, but the corner of my eyes caught the lightning flicker of pain on him. It vanished as fast as it appeared though, and I was thankful for that. The whole situation I was in was confusing, but what I definitely decided on was that I wanted _nobody_ hurt.

Exhaling deeply, Minho narrowed his eyes skeptically. "Really?"

"Yeah," I nodded, trying to seem convincing in his eyes. "I do. I love him."

Empty silence. It took Minho a few minutes to break the ice.

"Well, I've run from Grievers, spent a night in the Maze, worked my butt off for this Glade…I'm pretty sure I can do this. No problem," he said, shrugging. "The shank's got nothin' on me. All I have to do now is just…steal you."

"What does that mean?" I almost regretted opening my mouth when Minho's face leaned down towards me. The false alarms blared when he chuckled at my alerted expression.

Smirking, Minho whispered in my ear. "It means, that I'm not goin' down that easily, _babe_."

With that, he planted a quick kiss on my cheek, grinned, and walked away. I blinked, red in the face, feeling entirely stumped. _What just happened?_ When I finally regained my senses, my head snapped over to Minho. He was already halfway to the Map Room.

"Minho!" I called, grabbing his attention. I jogged over to him, finally remembering what I needed to say. "Newt and I didn't, um…do that. We never did."

"Nice to know," he replied, grinning, and walking off.

When he was gone, Newt popped into my mind, and then Minho again. _When_ I started having these similar feelings to him? I don't think I'll ever know. At the same time, I still loved Newt a whole lot more…but why do I feel that Minho-_ugh_. This is horrible. I feel like I'm in some kind of dramatic soap opera.

Why are human emotions so easily blended?

"This is so messed up," I groaned miserably.

* * *

><p>To make my day a little bit smoother and less confusing, I journeyed to no other than the kitchen. The sun was already beginning to set, and most of the Gladers had just finished their jobs. The only exception was our head cook—Frypan. Strangely, it wasn't that surprising.<p>

"Hey, Frypan," I greeted when I entered the kitchen. "I thought we already prepared dinner."

Frypan gave me a nod of acknowledgement, his eyes not straying from the onions on his cutting board. "This is just a little dinner for Thomas. He didn't get to eat dinner with the other shanks, ya know."

My eyebrows rose. _So Thomas gets a feast because he's awesome and I—who swallowed my anxiety for the Gathering—don't?_ _So not fair._ Sitting down on a stool, I tapped my fingers on the desk. With the whole situation with Newt and Minho, I decided to do what my holographic 'mother-from-the-real-world' would have advised me—talk to someone.

It sounded like an incredibly bad idea, but I still gave it a go.

"Frypan?" I said, receiving a questioning hum from the cook. "Can I talk to you about something?"

Narrowing his eyes, Frypan twisted his head slightly—although his hands continued slicing the thin strips of onion deftly. "Okay…why talk to me?"

"Well…Chuck is still a kid. Thomas is in the Slammer. Alby's sick and Gally's gone. I'm not really that close to any other Glader here," I answered.

"What about Newt or Minho?"

"They're sorta…connected in this whole thing," I replied sheepishly.

"Oh, I get it! You're gonna make me listen to you talking about _boys_."

"Um…yeah."

"I'm actually really bad at advice, girly. You should go to Clint or Winston or someone-"

"Frypan," I heaved, exasperated. "I'm not close to them. Besides, I already went to the Gathering for you. The least you can do is _listen._"

Setting his knife down, Frypan lifted his hands in mock-surrender. "Okay, okay. Hit me with it."

I smiled and inhaled deeply. After wasting half a minute thinking about how I should start, I said. "I'm in a pickle. A really huge, fat, juicy…_bad_ pickle."

"I _do_ hate pickles," he responded nonchalantly.

And then I didn't know what to say anymore. My knack for talking to others—if included in a problem—must be really bad. I tapped my fingers on the table and swung my legs in sheer boredom. Just before Frypan moved to place an aluminum foil-wrapped chicken on the pan, I uttered, "Boys are complicated."

"I don't know. It's kind of a general knowledge that girls are complicated," he replied smartly.

I thought about it, and he was right—I was making the problem here. "I guess I _am_ the complicated one then," I sighed. "I wish I was born as a boy," I mused miserably. "Then I could join your huge brotherhood easily. No drama whatsoever."

"What is the problem here, really? You keep talking in circles," he sighed. "Girls…"

When his question got through, I bit my lips in nervousness. "Well, actually…okay, _hypothetically _speaking, what if this person has a best friend…and the best friend one day says something _so _bad…but also good…but the problem is that the person already has someone…what then?"

"Well then, _hypothetically speaking_, you're a klunk-head," Frypan replied good-naturedly.

"Hey," I scowled.

"It's not that hard to know it's about you, Minho and Newt," he continued. "You're so blind, girly. Minho's liked you since you arrived, y'know. Always following you around, gettin' your food, joking with ya. He never did that with the other shanks."

"…I thought he was just trying to be nice."

"Minho? Nice? To us all, that's like a Griever decided to be our obedient pet dog. He ain't _nice _to anyone but you."

"But Newt-"

"Yeah, I know, I know," he cut me off. "Andy and Newt, Newt and Andy. That shank's made for ya. He's always talking 'bout you, worrying 'bout you and all. Since you came he's not all troubled and moody anymore…and thank god for that."

I felt like there was another meaning behind his last words about Newt, but didn't ask. "Okay. So…what should I do?"

Frypan shrugged. "I don't know."

I slumped back onto the table, sighing. "Some help," I muttered.

"Told ya, I'm not good at advice," he pointed out. "Now, if you're done, I gotta get back to makin' this roast beef and potatoes for Thomas, and then I have to bake cookies. Ain't got lotta time to waste."

I cocked my eyebrows in disbelief. "Seriously? He gets roast beef, potatoes _and _cookies?" I inquired incredulously. "And I don't get anything for helping at Gathering?"

Frypan laughed. "Girl, you can make your own food."

"Does his roast beef have gravy?"

"Hm…that's a good idea."

I groaned and scowled at the head cook. After a few long minutes of sitting and doing nothing, I decided I could take over the pile of untouched cookie ingredients. "Know what? I'll help you."

At least I could steal a few cookies or so.

* * *

><p>The next day was exceedingly normal—<em>and thank god for that.<em> Nothing special, weird, terrifying, or whatsoever happened. It was just that—normal. For once, nothing perturbing plagued me. I woke up like usual, cooked in the kitchen with the others and had breakfast.

Minho went out to run with Thomas, Newt was helping Alby catch up with the last few days he missed in the Glade, and I was free of problematic thoughts. Everything involving the day before with Newt and Minho was ignored and pushed to the back of my mind. I hoped for one peaceful day—just like the days I had before Thomas's arrival—and I finally thought I had it.

I should've known that it was too good to be true.

When Clint came bursting into the kitchen, all disheveled and panting, I knew that something was wrong. My first thought was Minho and Thomas. Did something go wrong in the Maze again? Was anyone injured? To my relief, he denied it all, but told me something else I didn't expect.

"The girl. She's waking up."

Why Clint chose to tell me instead of someone more authorized, I would never know. Regardless, I followed him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I apologize again for the late update but I have **_**finally**_** MOVED! Hopefully, with everything settled and out of the way, I can get the next chapter up quicker. Andy sounds a bit like a damsel in distress here, don't you think? I am not proud of it. This chapter was basically just a filler—where Andy realizes her connection to both guys and get confused—and I am sorry for writing such long, stretched, boring dialogues. The next chapter will be better, I hope, because Teresa finally wakes up! :D **

**And drama occurs when the doors don't close. I'm excited for that…I think.**

**softball007: thank you for your amazing review! I'm glad you loved it! And I love it when reviewers get long winded, actually. Seeing the first review for the chapter and your **_**long**_** one made me jump up in glee! Would there be a couple dubbed Nandy? Hopefully. We'll see when the end comes. Thanks again for your kind review! :D**

**Gladress: Thank you for liking it! I hope that Newt saying 'I love you' back wasn't…bad…I tried. I'm actually extremely awkward with those things. **_**Anyway**_**, I **_**always**_** look forward to a review by you because you are awesome and I love your lengthy, detailed reviews! So thanks for that! :)**

**Namiskii: Thank you for reviewing and saying that Andy isn't too Mary-Sueish. And also, you pointed out that Andy and Newt are physical and up there, um, **_**yeah**_**…so sorry about that. :) And yeah, Minho is kinda awesome and all that, right? I would actually love to read your rant about why Mindy is better…if you're up for it, heh. But anyways, thank you again! :)**

**Mika: Thank you for your beautiful, kind words. I am smiling and blushing. Thanks for your review on the mix up. I love it when I receive reviews like yours. Makes my day always. I also subconsciously use shuck sometimes, so you're okay! Her faceclaim can be anyone, really. I have Elle Fanning (even if she's too young) on the cover because I like her hair color and the trees behind her but it can be **_**anyone**_**! Dakota Fanning, Amanda Seyfried, Ginny Gardner, I once had a reviewer saying they saw Andy as Saoirse Ronan, or you can just imagine her as a completely inexistent person! :)**

**Megan VR: Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad that you pointed out that reality check. I really was thinking of how Winston screamed Jeff's name it when I watched the movie, so I just gave it some backstory...but Andy's here. Things can chage for those two…maybe. Hah. I **_**am**_** planning on an intimate scene with Minho and Andy, and it **_**will**_** be to clarify who she wants. :D **

**Guest: Thanks to **_**all **_**the guests that reviewed! To that one particular long one though…thank you **_**loads**_**! I hope Newt's jealousy tuned down a bit in this. Thanks for loving it and sorry if it was a little too soon for the phrase. I just thought that things in the Glade could move a little faster since the ending is coming. :)**

**OnyeezU: Thanks for the review! Yes, indeed—poor Gally. I hope Newt didn't show much jealousy here. And if you're still rooting for Minho, I hope you liked that up there…hopefully. :) **

**Others: Thank you **_**so much**_** for all the reviews, follows and favorites! They all mean so much and I love every single one of them! And shout out to AnimeLover-DarkKnight321 for being my 200****th**** reviewer. THANK YOU! :D**

**Thanks for reading :)**


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